


Batman Begins

by KatrinaCastillo



Series: Knight of the Castle [2]
Category: Batman Begins (2005), Castle, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Assassins, CIA, Castle family feels, Gen, League of Assassins - Freeform, Lucius and Castle's Dad were friends, New York City is extremely corrupt, Pre-Series, Richard Castle is the Batman, Roy Montgomery is a good cop, Three years before Season 1, fear toxin, someone wants to destroy New York
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:56:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrinaCastillo/pseuds/KatrinaCastillo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the departure of the League, Castle is ready to stare evil in the eye and fight criminals in New York. He becomes a symbol - the Batman. It doesn't take long for him to make some enemies - a bounty is placed on his head by an unknown criminal, the NYPD certainly don't trust him, and the saucy Selina Kyle seems bent on making his life miserable. On top of all that, a plot seems to be brewing in the city - a plot to destroy it. Teaming up with Captain Roy Montgomery of the NYPD, the Batman faces an enemy Castle never thought possible</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**December 24, 2005**

The O'Malley family. An organized crime ring, Irish in heritage, that grown tremendously the past couple of years. Rumors were circulating of how the Boss was sick and dying; there were also rumors about who would take over after the Boss kicked the bucket.

Ra's al Ghul's resources found out who the heir was.

A lone figure stood on a rooftop opposite the mob's warehouse, where Scott would undoubtedly show up to help with a new shipment they had coming in. There were already two men there, unloading a white van, joking and laughing with each other. Strange to see with criminals, during such an 'important' job.

The soft sound of a car approaching caught the figure's attention. Scott had arrived. He greeted the other two, beginning to help them with the work. He was the sole target. The way the League and, more importantly, Ra's al Ghul saw it, once the O'Malley boss died, and with Scott out of the picture, there'd be no leadership. And a mob without leadership tended to fall apart, either into smaller groups cops could easily catch or completely.

Beginning his descent from the rooftop, the figure kept a close eye on the three men, now able to hear them better.

"-things going with you and Siobhan?"

"Really Bobby? Come on, we're working here!"

"Aw, come on Fenton! Just tell me  _something-_ "

Scott interrupted them. "Boys, can we please get back to work? We can talk about O'Connell's love life later."

There was silence for a moment, then the sound of footsteps began again.

He reached the breaker easily enough, waiting for a moment at least two of them were inside so he could take them out. Of course, when the warehouse's lights went out, their guard went out. As expected, they had guns, but to him it would be no problem. When one of them came to check the breaker - it was either Bobby or Fenton, he didn't know and wasn't too concerned - he grabbed them from behind, cutting off their respiration until they passed out.

' _One down, two to go._ '

He was patient, and careful. One wrong move, and he'd be shot in a hail of bullets. Smiling to himself at the intended joke, he worked his way around the warehouse to his next vantage point. In walked Scott, which meant the third guy had gone outside and was now alone. Moving quickly, he got out and snuck up behind the guy, smashing his head against the van.

All that was left was Scott.

A disturbed shout notified him that Scott had found the first 'victim.' Hurried footsteps told him to get out of sight, fast.

* * *

Scott looked around carefully. Fenton was unconscious inside, he didn't know how or why. With a hint of fear, he saw Bobby S laying on the ground by the van. Scott was relieved to find a pulse - if whoever was doing this wasn't killing them, then maybe-

Seeing a shadow, Scott turned and fired quickly. But there was no one there. Damn, this was supposed to be a simple night! The regular shipment of heroin they got every week, with  _no problems_. Looking at his unconscious 'co-worker', Scott figured it was safe to say that they had a problem.

* * *

Scott was too freaked to pay much attention to him approaching.

* * *

All Scott saw before being knocked unconscious was a man dressed in black.


	2. Targets and Allies

_**December 20, 2005** _

_The envelope had no return address on it, which first caught his attention. It was a regular sized envelope, but when he opened it, there was only a piece of paper inside, along with a key. A piece of paper with a P.O. Box address written on it._

_He tracked down the box that same day, finding it in Grand Central Station. Inside was a much larger envelope. It was only when he returned home and was sure of his privacy that he opened the package. Inside was a few pictures of the same man, a rap sheet, and listed information about him. There was also another sheet of printer paper, but it was blank._

_Well, that made no sense. Luckily for him, he had a keen ability to think outside of the box. Searching for a black light, he grinned when the message appeared._

**_Scott O'Ryan. Will take control of the Irish mob soon_ **

**_Ensure he is stopped._ **

_The letter wasn't signed, but he could tell who it was from._

_Looking at Scott's rap sheet, he could see why he had to be stopped. Assault, robbery, murder charges that were mysteriously dropped, along with dropped rape charges. And from what he knew of the Irish mob, they worked with drug and weapons trafficking._

_Knocking the mob down would help keep some of that poison out of the city..._

* * *

**Present Day**

**December 30, 2005**

Richard Castle walked out of his room, the smell of eggs and bacon calling his name. With a fond smile, he saw his mother and daught cooking breakfast together, talking contently. He remained silent and simply watched them; they didn't notice him as he was practically invisible. They had mornings like this more often the past month, where they'd simply be a family.

The tree was still decorated from Christmas - that had been an interesting day, he mused. In fact, the whole house was extravagantly decorated. This... this was good. This was perfect.

"Morning ladies," he finally greeted, smiling at them.

"Morning dad!" Alexis greeted, letting him kiss her forehead. When she shifted off to set the table, Martha stood by Castle.

"You were in the news this morning," she whispered. When her son looked at her with wide and innocent eyes, she scoffed. "Richard Castle, please, do you honestly think I can't tell when you're going out on a 'job'?"

Castle shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast. "What'd they say?"

"That an unknown third party dropped Scott O'Ryan off at a police station with enough evidence to lo him up for good, she relied. "Some say you're a Good Samaritan, others call you a whack job." Castle winced jokingly.

"That's harsh," he chuckled, but eventually sobered down. "So he's going down?" Martha nodded, and a grim look came onto Castle's face. "Good."

"What about that cop you were telling me about?" Martha wondered.

"Talking to him tonight, now that I have some 'credibility,'" Castle said. "I'll take care of what the League sends my way, work with Montgomery, and put some criminals in jail."

Martha shook her head. "I'm still not comfortable with it Richard," she admitted quietly. "But... I trust you. Just be careful, alright?"

Castle smiled, giving Martha a one-armed hug. "I promise."

* * *

It was late at the Twelfth precinct, and Captain Roy Montgomery was ready to head home. Most, if not all, of his detectives and officers had left for the night, leaving the bullpen virtually empty. Rubbing his eyes, Montgomery felt fatigue settle in. The latest case had been tough on his newest detective, Detective Beckett. With half of their cops on some mobster's payroll, it had been hard to solve this newest homicide. But Roy had faith she'd pull through.

He went to stand, so he could leave, but the sudden loss of light in his office stopped him. Eyes narrowed, he immediately grew suspicious as the lights in the bullpen were still on. There was a click, then the feel of hard and cold steel on the back of his neck.

A gun.

"Don't move," came the warning. Montgomery stiffened even further.

"What do you want" he asked, his mind going to his pregnant wife and two-year-old daughter. Behind him, Castle was dressed in his League attire, holding a stapler to Montgomery's back, ensuring the man wouldn't turn/

"I've been watching you," he said simply, his voice disguised. "You're a good cop. One of the few." This did nothing to clue the captain in, so Castle went straight to business. "Carmine Falcone," he said, speaking of another man the League told him to take care of. "He brings in weekly shipments of drugs, but nobody takes him down. Why?"

"He's paid up with the right people," Montgomery answered, and Castle detected the hint of bitterness in the man's voice.

"What would it take?" he pressed.

Montgomery paused, considering his next words carefully. "Leverage on Judge Phelan. And a D.A. brave enough to prosecute."

"Harvey Dent," Castle answered, having already done his research into Dent earlier.

There was silence, until Roy shifted. "Who are you?" he shifted.

"Watch for my sign," Castle responded, slipping away.

"You're one man," Montgomery scoffed, still not moving. Castle smirked under his balaclava.

"Now, we're two."

Another pause. " _We?_ " Montgomery repeated.

The lights flickered back on, and Montgomery saw he was alone. No open doors, no open windows, everything was in order.

What just happened here?

* * *

Finally reaching the rooftop, Castle ripped the balaclava from his head. Well... that was a bit exhausting. Sure, he had climbed up and down rooftops before, but none this tall. And never under pressure of being discover - it was always when no one knew he was there.

Trekking his way back home, he began thinking to himself. There had to be an easier way to do this; his whole shutting off the lights trick had been prepared in advance (a feat in itself), and now as he ran on rooftops, he had to be supremely careful not to fall to his death. And if there were ever a time he came under fire, what would he do? Just say  _'sorry, my League suit didn't come bulletproof?'_

No, Castle needed better equipment. An upgrade of sorts.

And he knew exactly where to look.


	3. Foxes and Bats

**January 3, 2006**

The CIA was as busy as Castle remembered it. The last time he had been to their New York offices was years ago.. after his father moved from the MIA list to the KIA list. While they essentially left Martha and Richard alone, they made sure the family knew that the CIA would always be available to help them out. That was the reason Castle was able to do research for his Derrick Storm books five years ago.

Now, he was here under the pretense of more research, but in reality he was hoping to scope out their inventory. Castle knew he had to be careful though - after all, this was the CIA.

After to speaking to the regional director, Castle was cleared to head on over to the Applied Sciences division, in order to 'research' some technology for his Derrick Storm books.

It was a warehouse of sorts, and seemed to be lacking in staff. Castle wandered around for a bit, seeing crates and lab equipment, but no people. "Hello?" he eventually called out. Turning a corner, he finally saw a life form - a dark-skinned man who smiled at him.

"Mr. Castle, is it?" He stood from his desk, offering his hand. "I was told you'd be coming down here."

Castle shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr.?"

"Fox. Lucius Fox." He motioned for Castle to follow him. "Welcome to Applied Sciences. Environmental applications, defense projects, consumer products... all prototypes. Not on production, at any level."

Castle was intrigued. "None?" he repeated. "Is it just you down here?"

Fox smiled again. "Not too many people want to head down here - call it a 'Dead End'. If you wanted to see the shiny toys, you'd have to go Tech and Mechanics." He stopped and looked at Castle. "What did your father tell you about this place?"

If the writer was taken aback at the random mention of his dad, he didn't show it. Instead, he shrugged. "He never really told me much when it came to the CIA," he stated truthfully. "What with everything being classified and all."

Fox nodded. "Why don't I show you around?"

"Did you know my father?" Castle asked after a moment. Fox didn't stop walking as they conversed.

"Very well," was the response. "We worked together."

"In the field?" Castle questioned; he couldn't see Fox as a gun-wielding, butt kicking spy.

Fox laughed, as if sensing Castle's thoughts and agreeing with them. "No, Mr. Castle. Here, in this very lab." He didn't notice Castle's falter in movement. "Half the things you see in here were designed and built by your father." Castle stared after Lucius for a moment, unable to believe it. Eyes wandered over nearby equipment, mind realizing that his dad touched and built it. He found himself moving after Fox once more, his brain still blurred at the fact. "Besides being one of the best agents the CIA had seen in a long time, he was also a brilliant man when it came to technology."

"I...I didn't know that," Castle admitted. Fox looked at him reassuringly.

"Most people didn't."

They stopped in front of a heavy duty drawer. Fox slid it open, and Castle's was instantly impressed - it suddenly felt like Christmas. "Kevlar-utility harness. Gas-powered magnetic grapple gun, with a 350 pound test monofilament." As Fox walked on, Castle lingered for a few seconds, eyeing everything and taking in a mental inventory.

Seconds later, and a short distance away, Fox was showing Castle even more 'toys.' "Nomec survival suit for advanced infantry. Kevlar by-wave, with reinforced joints."

"Tear resistant?" Castle questioned.

"This sucker will stop a knife," Fox nodded.

"Bulletproof?"

"Anything but a straight shot."

"You built all this?" Castle asked after a moment, still not quite able to wrap his mind around the story Fox gave him.

"With your father, yes," Fox answered, shutting the drawer shut.

Castle's brow furrowed. "Why didn't they put any of it into production?"

"The CIA figured an agent, or a soldier, wasn't worth 300 grand," Fox shrugged. "So they buried the projects, and the division. Completely uninterested." Castle nodded slowly in understanding. "So..." Fox began, eyeing Castle closely, "What's  _your_  interest in it, Mr. Castle?"

The writer looked up, a bit startled and more than taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

The older man chuckled. "I've read your books Mr. Castle," he said. "You need about as much research as I need a haircut." Castle looked at the man's short hair, knowing Fox wasn't buying the story.

"I was wondering if I could borrow it," he said truthfully. "For, uh, cave-diving."

Fox didn't narrow his eyes, he didn't judge. But Castle could see a hint of concern on the man's features. "You plan to run into much gunfire in these caves?" he questioned. There was something about the man, something that made it hard to lie to him, so Castle remained silent. After a moment, Fox nodded. "I've got no use for any of it, to be honest."

Castle looked up at him in surprise, but nodded in gratitude. "Look, Mr. Fox," he said, "I'd rather the CIA... not know about this-"

"Mr. Castle," Fox cut off, "The CIA has made clear their opinion of it, and it's all just collecting dust in here. Not to mention that your father built and designed about half of what's in here." He clapped a hand on Castle's shoulder. "The way I see it... all of this is yours."

* * *

Getting something to blackmail the judge was considerably easy. Phelan wasn't exactly discrete with his illegal activities. With a decent disguise, he followed the 'honorable' judge to the seedy part of the Upper West Side, and snapped a few pictures of him picking up a prostitute.

Piece of cake.

* * *

Across town, Harvey Dent walked to his car, ready to go home and get some rest. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would only be longer. Ever since becoming the Assistant District Attorney, his work had become his life, even though the crime rates were unchanged. It was something he didn't like, but learned to deal with. Can't change the world on your own, after all.

When he reached his car, Dent noticed a package taped to the windshield. With confusion, he ripped the package off and opened it, eyes widening tremendously upon seeing its contents. "What the hell-"

"Leverage," a voice graveled. Dent spun around in surprise, seeing a silhouette of a man in the shadows.

"What is this?" Dent demanded, lifting the file. "Who are you"

"Like I said; it's leverage. To get things moving," the man said. Dent looked from him back to the file. The pictures were clearly of Judge Phelan, and he was clearly hiring a prostitute.

Looking back up, Dent saw the man was gone. No sign of him anywhere. Uncertain, he looked back down at the pictures.

Harvey Dent had a feeling that things were about to get very, very interesting.

* * *

One thing about the loft that caught Castle's attention was the emergency escape route it had. He had just released his first Derrick Storm book, and was caught up in the spy world - it fascinated him. When Castle was searching for a new place to live, he managed to narrow it down between a penthouse and the loft. Both were exactly what he was looking for, and in his price range.

Then he found the hidden room.

In the office/study, one of the bookshelves moved to reveal a flight of stairs. And at the bottom was an industrial (yet dark) room - a bunker of sorts. The real estate agent said it had an emergency exit and was an extra-luxurious panic room, so to speak.

Castle was sold.

But he never used it. He got wrapped up in moving in, then writing his next Derrick Storm book, then Alexis was born. It sort of floated to the back of his mind. Until no. With all the equipment he was getting from Lucius Fox, he couldn't leave it all laying around. He needed a secure place to store it all.

So here he was, with a flashlight, ready to explore the hidden room. He remembered which 'book' opened the passageway - it was the only book that wasn't his on the shelf, as it was really just a lever disguised as a book. Pulling on it, he smiled to himself when the shelf slide aside. He turned the flashlight on and began his descent down the stairs. There were more stairs than he remembered - it was also darker than he remembered.

Reaching the bottom, finally, he swung the light around a bit to give him a clearer view of the room. But it was still so dark in here...

A soft fluttering caught his attention. Looking up, and moving the light in the same direction, he blinked in surprise upon seeing bats on the ceiling. The lights must have irritated the animals, because they suddenly flew about, screeching. None came near him, but Castle stared up at them, awestruck at how they moved chaotically, yet seemingly as one.

Then they were gone.

' _Probably the other exit,_ ' Castle mused to himself. He moved around, searching till he finally found a switch. Flipping it, the room lit up and Castle whistled to himself. It was a lot bigger than he remembered.

He smiled as he turned the flashlight off and surveyed the room. This would work just fine.

His own batcave.

' _Bats...'_  Castle thought to himself. ' _Hmm...'_

* * *

"Richard?" Martha called out about six hours later. Castle didn't look up from his work.

"In here, mother!"

Martha was a bit confused when she reached the bottom. She had known about the secret room, but as far as she knew, it was never used. Looking around, she saw it was fairly clean, so Richard must have done some work in here at some point...

Finally, she looked at him. "What's going on?" she asked. There was a table with piles of equipment on it, and her son seemed very focused on a belt of sorts. He looked up, hints of his childish mannerisms appearing.

"Welcome to my lair."

"Your lair?" she scoffed. "Richard Castle, honestly, aren't you taking things a bit too far?"

Castle paused, considering this. "No," he said simply, causing Martha to chuckle. She went over to him, looking at his work.

"New supplies?" she wondered.

"New suit too," he said. "Bulletproof one."

Martha took note of a sketch he had laying out, of a symbol resembling a bat. "Bats?" Castle looked at her, noticing her curious expression. "Why bats?"

A look of seriousness came onto the writer's face as he looked back at the objects covering the table. He rubbed his face for a moment, letting out a sigh. Finally, he turned back to his mother. "Dad built all of this," he admitted. Martha let out a soft gasp, tinted with disbelief and marked with surprise. She looked back at the items on the table, and touched them lightly, needing to feel that piece of her husband. She let out a shuddering breath, then motioned for Castle to continue.

"Bats symbolize death and rebirth," he began once more. "The death part... I want to honor Dad's memory, by using what he built, to do good." Martha nodded her silent agreement, unknowingly causing her son to sigh in relief. He continued, "Rebirth... well, that's more for me. You said it yourself mother, I'm a different person now. A new person. I've been 'reborn', so to speak." He nodded in affirmation. "A bat symbolizes this. And, hopefully, it can be a symbol of hope for a dying city... To prove that it can have a fresh start, and be great again."

Martha smiled at her son; he truly did have a way with words. "Well then," she said, "we'd better get to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is chapter 2! So a few notes/explanations!
> 
> 1\. SEASON 5 SPOILER! Yes, Castle's father is CIA. Just like in the show.
> 
> 2\. Since Bruce Wayne is non-existent in this universe, there is no Wayne Enterprises. So where else would a man like Lucius Fox go to work? Certainly not Queen Industries! ;)
> 
> 3\. Harvey Dent does get an earlier role in Batman's development in Knight of the Castle as opposed to the Nolan verse.
> 
> 4\. The Batcave is modeled after the one from The Dark Knight. Not an actual cave, but it will be Bat!Castle's base of operation throughout the series. And I'm fairly certain that there are bats in New York City; considering that Castle has left the bunker untouched for over 5 years, it's not far-fetched to think that bats would make their home in that dark place.
> 
> 5\. In Nolan's Batman Begins, Bruce chooses a bat as his symbol because he's afraid of bats and wants to share that fear with criminals. In my Batman Begins, it's not so. When it comes to Richard Castle, it's always about the story. Seeing the bats made him think about bats, and researched them... it seems like something he would do. And since bats really do resemble death and rebirth, it seems like a valid reason for him to call himself Batman (as he explains in the story). This was actually one of my biggest concerns when beginning the series: Why would Castle call himself Batman? As he's said on the show, "it's always about the story."
> 
> 6\. I portray Martha to be supportive to a certain degree. She worries about her son, and doesn't want him to get hurt. But now that she sees how serious he is about this, and the thought he's put into it, she'll be a lot more supportive of his alter-ego.


	4. Batman Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bat!Castle is finally here!

Detective Esposito from the 54th Precinct studied the crime scene. Well, what they were told was a crime scene. A robbery, apparently. But there was no sign of forced entry, no fibers or prints, and the safe (that was supposedly robbed) was shut. Esposito had wanted to pack up and leave a while ago, but the homeowner was insisting his files had been stolen. He placed the files inside the safe on Wednesday night, didn't touch them all Thursday, and now on Friday morning they were gone.

What Esposito didn't understand was why the files, and not the wads of cash or expensive jewelry? The valuables sat untouched in the safe, making it appear as if the robber overlooked them entirely.

"Mr. Bartley, does anyone besides you have access to this room?" he asked the wealthy homeowner. The grey haired man nodded, pointing to the dark haired woman across the room.

"My housekeeper, but she doesn't know the code," Bartley said. "Had the day off yesterday too."

"And what were in those files?" Esposito questioned.

"Nothing special, really. Blueprints to my office building - we're renovating you see, and the contractor wanted me to have my own copy of the place."

Esposito nodded. "Alright, thank you Mr. Bartley." He knew Bartley wasn't telling him everything - something  _had_  to be valuable in those papers - but a robbery was a robbery. He had to investigate it. Moving to the housekeeper, he began questioning her as well.

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well, yesterday was my day off, and on Wednesday... everything seemed fine," she answered.

"Nothing moved around, nothing out of place?" Esposito asked again. She shook her head. "And where were you yesterday?"

"Hanging with some friends, all day," she replied. Esposito nodded, taking to final notes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name?"

She smiled. "Selina Kyle."

Esposito nodded once more. "Alright, thank you for your cooperation Miss Kyle."

"Of course."

The detective never noticed her victorious grin. She'd alibi out, due to a very nice payoff. And even if there were any traces of her DNA, it would be disregarded - after all, she was the housekeeper.

Yes, Selina Kyle was in the clear, with those precious files hidden in her apartment.

* * *

There was a reason that criminals operated at night. The darkness hid their activities, shadows disguising their every move. If they moved in broad daylight, they could be seen. The night was their time to thrive.

At least, until now..

* * *

In the more secluded, slightly abandoned area of New York's Harbor, Carmine Falcone's men were gathering up a shipment of drugs. A pair of thugs were finishing up one of the containers, when an echoing cry was heard. They stared at each other before abandoning their post, drawing their guns as they rushed towards the sound.

They came upon a discarded package, laying there unopened. But no sign of anyone. It was unusually silent too.

Nodding to each other, the two thugs split up, each checking the opposite direction of each other. The first one of them was calm, remaining completely alert. The other wasn't as calm, but kept a good front. The first thug came across a partner of theirs, but received no greeting. The third man was simply standing up.

"What are you looking at-"

His words died in his throat when he looked up as well. There was a thing, some giant black thing, hanging above them. It almost look like a-

It suddenly dropped down, its wings unfolding and engulfing the third thug into the darkness. Without another thought, the first thug turned and ran they way he came. He had no idea  _what_  just happened. And he had no desire of finding out.

Finally, he found the second thug and raced towards him so they could get out of there. He was feet away when blackness swooped down and took him away, making him scream.

The second thug's jaw dropped as fear filled him.

The scream drew the other thug's attention. Grabbing their guns, they went off to investigate; something was very  _very_  wrong.

Thug Number 2 was no longer hiding his fear behind a façade. Whatever was happening was bad; three guys were missing, and he had no back-up. Hearing a rattle, he fired warning shots. Then there was a quick-moving shadow; first feet in front of him, then yards to his side. More shots echoed in the dock. He was officially freaked out, and alone, and this was not going to end well. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" he screamed.

"Here."

And then there was black.

One of the thugs rushed to Falcone's car, sticking their head in. "There's a bit of a situation.

Falcone eyed him suspiciously. "What kind of situation?" he demanded. The thug swallowed and shook his head.

"You need to get out of here.

The thugs that were left had remained together. Whatever, or whoever, was here was picking their guys off, one by one. Tougher chance of doing that if they all stuck together. They had their backs to each other, forming a circle, guns pointed out. No way anyone could sneak up on them now.

They never counted for their enemy to drop down into the  _middle_  of the circle.

It was a flurry of fists, knives, feet, screams, and a lot of black.

Then it was still.

All the thugs were down on the ground, unconscious or well on their way. Alone, a tall figure stood in the center of the fallen men, staring down at them. It carefully walked over them, fading into the shadows.

Falcone was on the phone, still in his parked car. "I don't know what's going on, someone's compromising the shipment!"

_"He won't be too happy about that."_

"Well, no kidding Sherlock!" Falcone snarled. "I'll call you back later, I'm getting out of here." A click indicated the other person had hung up. "Let's go," Falcone ordered. When nothing happened, his eyes narrowed. Looking closely at his driver, he saw the man was unconscious. "Dammit."

He grabbed his gun, making sure it was loaded. There was something out there, and Falcone was actually terrified.

"What the hell are you?" he whispered, not really expecting an answer.

The sunroof of his car suddenly shattered, a hand reaching into the car and grabbing Falcone. The mobster was pulled out of his car through the roof window, held tightly by the black figure, cold eyes frightening Falcone.

"I'm Batman."

* * *

Roy Montgomery was called to the scene less than an hour later, and needless to say, he was surprised.

"Falcone's men?" an officer wondered. Captain Montgomery looked at the tied-up thugs, who were unconscious by the container that had yet to be unloaded. He shrugged, a sigh escaping him.

"Doesn't matter - he'll never be tied to I, anyway."

"Uh... sir? I wouldn't be too sure about that..."

Montgomery looked at officer, who was pointing up. Following his gaze, the Captain's eyes widened. On a harbor light was Carmine Falcone, who was unconscious and strapped to it with his arms spread. His coat was shredded, leaving a silhouette in the night sky. "What is it?" an officer questioned.

Montgomery remained silent, staring. "Looks like..."

They all scrutinized the shadow in the clouds.

"It looks like a bat."

Sure enough, that's what it was in the sky - a bat symbol. Montgomery's brows furrowed, then he shook his head. "Cut him down."

As the officers went to do as told, Montgomery walked around, glancing at the sign curiously. He had seen a lot of things during his career, but none as strange as this. He reached an area that CSU hadn't swept yet, and spotted something. A silver piece of metal, laying on the ground. Upon further investigation, Montgomery saw that it too was in the shape of a bat.

Why were bats suddenly popping up everywhere?

Out of the corner of his eye, Montgomery saw movement. Looking up and over, he saw it. Standing on the edge of a low rooftop, watching the scene below.

Batman looked at Montgomery, nodding briefly before disappearing into the shadows.

It didn't take long for Montgomery to realize that...  _thing_... was the man who had snuck into his office a few nights ago.  _Watch for my sign_ , he had said. Clearly, his 'sign' was a bat symbol, which made his question the man's sanity. And besides...

Who in their right mind would wear a cape?

* * *

Harvey Dent walked straight to his boss, Mr. Finch, with purpose. He slammed down a newspaper, with the front page showing Falcone tied to the light. "We can finally nail the bastard," Dent said. "We have witness, prints, everything. Falcone won't walk."

Finch rubbed his eyes. "Judge Phelan will let him."

At this, Dent smirked. "Let me handle the judge."

Still, Finch wasn't convinced. "What about this...  _bat_... Falcone's men keep going on about?"

There was silence and Dent shifted, but he regained his composure. "Even if this guy  _was_  around and beat the crap out of those guys, he won't matter in Falcone's case." He looked Finch in the eye. "We can take him down."

Finch looked at the paper, then up at Dent. He smiled. "Let's nail the bastard," he agreed.

* * *

Mayor Robert Wilde stood before multiple NYPD Captains, Sergeants, and Lieutenants, angrily speaking. "This is  _unacceptable_ ," he declared, pointing to the front page of a newspaper. "I don't care who's responsible or what their motive is; just get them off the streets and off the front page!" He paused for a moment, rubbing his head. "People are saying it was just one guy... that should make it a lot easier for you all to find him,  _right_?"

Montgomery was present in the room, and he slowly raised his hand. Weldon nodded, giving him the floor. "Mayor Weldon... this guy, whoever he is,  _did_  just hand us one of this city's biggest crime lords."

Weldon didn't share Montgomery's sentiments. "No one takes the law into their own hands. Not in my city."

* * *

It took a lot to worry Roman Sionis. He faced drug dealers, gun traffickers, and trigger-happy pimps on a daily basis - along with surviving the legal business world. A man of his status and position didn't get there by cowering away from danger and submitting to opposition. No, Roman was a man without fear.

Until that freak took Carmine Falcone.

Falcone had always been well protected, physically and when it came to his crimes. No one got close enough to harm him, and no evidence had ever stuck to the man. And now, this do-gooder comes along with evidence to lock Falcone up? Not only was Roman losing a business partner and a  _lot_  of money, he was now at risk of having his own criminal activities exposed. And, for the icing on the cake, this 'hero' was going around and fighting crime.

What kind of a name was 'Batman', anyways?

Something had to be done. The Batman had to be stopped; if he wasn't, they'd all end up broke or in jail. And neither sounded too appealing. But Roman Sionis was nothing if not creative. He knew  _exactly_ how to handle that Batman...

* * *

Later that night, Roman's words were travelling all throughout the criminal underground in a frenzy.

_"This city has a problem... Some freak who thinks he's a hero."_

Word travelled fast about this Batman-guy. He had taken down Carmine Falcone after going through ten guys, although some said it was twenty. What caught everyone's attention, however, was the fact that he didn't go after Falcone for money or power. Instead, he gave Falcone to the police with enough evidence to look him away for good. And that was scarier than any takeover could ever be.

_"Luckily, there ain't a problem in the world that can't be solved with a little bit of money... We all win - one of you walks away with **fifty million**  dollars. And the rest... well..._

_"We get rid of the Batman."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of a bounty on Batman's head was inspired by the game Batman: Arkham Origins, and Roman Sionis' speech about the bounty was taken from a trailer for the game. Just clarifying that.


	5. Storm's Coming

The sudden burst of light caused Castle to groan in discomfort. Squinting, he looked to see Martha in the room, opening all the curtains. He himself was sprawled out on his bed and the sudden awakening was not helping his mood any. Groggily, he pushed himself further into the bed.

"Mother, bats are nocturnal," he whined. Martha pulled the covers off of him, earning an unhappy 'Hey!' from her son.

"Bats, yes. Best-selling novelists? No," she said. "But I suppose that's what happens when you lead a double life."

Not giving up, Castle turned to the other side of the bed, his back now to Martha. "Can we talk about this in the afternoon?" he pleaded.

"Richard, it's 2 o'clock!"

At this, Castle's eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at his mother, eyes wide. She nodded, signifying that she was  _not_  joking. Castle grumbled as he got out of bed. "If I fall asleep on the job tonight, it's all you fault," he stated, shuffling to the bathroom. In the room, Martha merely shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

When Castle finally made it to the kitchen, Martha already had the newspaper laid out for him on the island. "Your theatrics made quite the impression on the press," she commented as he looked at it.

"Theatricality and deception are powerful agents," Castle said in response, quoting Ducard. He finally looked up from the paper. "It's a start."

"Paula called," Martha said after a few moments of silence. "There's a gala she wants you to attend tonight."

Castle looked at her. "And you told her that I couldn't make it, right?"

"Well..."

"Mother, I can't go to a gala - I think fighting criminals is a little more important than that."

"You've been absent from the public eye lately, kiddo," Martha stated. "People are starting to wonder what exactly Richard Castle does with his time. And his money."

"So... you're saying I should be the playboy jackass the press thinks I am?" Castle asked in confusion.

" _Pretend_  to be the 'playboy jackass,'" Martha countered dramatically. "Theatricality and deception, right?"

Castle considered this for a moment, then nodded his agreement. "Alright, I see your point.. So, date lots of women, buy stuff I don't need... I can do that."

* * *

It hadn't taken much effort, but Castle managed to get a few big name authors over for a poker game. He had to be a millionaire playboy writer, might as well start within his own industry. Stephen J. Cannell, Michael Connelly, James Patterson, J.K. Rowling, and Steven King... all in his loft. Paula and Gina were thrilled with his connecting with other authors and hosting such an 'A-List' event. Honestly, Castle was just lucky that Rowling and King happened to be in the city this week.

"So, you enjoy visiting the States?" Patterson asked Rowling, dealing the cards that night. The Brit smiled.

"Oh, I love New York," she said, her accent strong. "And it's been even more interesting these past few days."

"You're talking about that Batman, aren't you?" King said.

"Ugh, here we go," Connelly complained. "I can't escape the topic! My wife keeps going on and on about him!"

Connell shrugged. "I for one like the guy," he admitted. "It's good to see someone doing something for once around this city."

"You can't take the law into your own hands," Connelly countered.

Rowling interrupted here, "But at least he's getting something done."

Connelly rolled his eyes. "Castle, come on, help me out here," he said.

Castle looked up from his cards, a slight smile on his face. "A guy who dresses up like a bat... clearly has some issues," he joked, folding. Connelly nodded his agreement, as did Patterson.

"But he put that mobster behind bars," Rowling said.

King snorted. "And now the cops want  _him_  behind bars too.

"What does that tell you?" Patterson continued.

Rowling smirked as she played her hand, winning. "That they're jealous."

Castle smiled at Rowling as Patterson, King, and Connelly groaned, losing their money to the British woman.

* * *

Roy Montgomery looked at his pregnant wife, smiling fondly as she tried feeding their two-year-old daughter (without success). A chuckle escaped him when the baby knocked the bowl of food to the floor. Evelyn Montgomery looked from Rebecca to her husband.

"Yes, yes. Very funny, right? So you won't mind cleaning it up?"

Roy did as told, still laughing at their daughter's antics and his wife's frustration. He kissed his wife as he stood up, moving to take the trash out. He shivered a bit as he stood outside; the chilly air was a bit of a shock compared to the warmth in his home.

"Storm's coming."

Montgomery turned at the gravelly voice, seeing the Batman crouched on a fire escape. "Mayor Weldon set up a task force to find you - all officers are ordered to arrest you on sight," he said, eyeing the masked man warily.

"If they can catch me," Batman spoke. "What's the word on Falcone?"

"His lawyer is having him plead insanity," Montgomery sighed. "If he pays off the psychologist..."

"Who is he?"

Montgomery shrugged. "That's not information I'm privileged too." He looked away. "There was something up with the drugs though. Falcone trafficks in heroin and cocaine... But there was a third substance; smaller in supply, but a good amount. The labs are testing them, but... it's been hard to identify them."

"It hasn't been on the streets?"

"No."

"So he's bringing in product for something else then," Batman said, Montgomery nodding in agreement. "What's the NYPD doing about it?"

The captain paused, unsure exactly what he should tell this guy. Going with his gut, he spoke up. "Keeping it quiet, for now. Until we know exactly  _what_  that stuff is, there isn't much we can do about it." The Batman nodded, moving to leave. "The NYPD thinks you're dangerous," Montgomery said, looking at him.

Batman glance at him. "What do you think?"

Once more, Montgomery looked away, uncertain. "I think you're just trying to help." When he turned back, he saw the Batman was gone, with no trace of ever being there. Rubbing his eyes, he thought back to the night with Raglan and McCallister, when he was a rookie...

"But I've been wrong before," he whispered to himself.

* * *

There was a robbery in Midtown, a jewelry store by the looks of it. The burglar had done a decent and clean job - until they triggered the silent alarm. First responders said they saw a woman fleeing the scene, but when they went to pursue her, she was gone. This matched at least 13 other robberies all over Manhattan from the past year - the only difference was that the silent alarm had never been set off before.

Standing on a rooftop across the street from the jewelry store, Selina Kyle watched the scene below. Normally after a job, she'd flee the scene right away, before the cops even got there. She never stuck around and she  _never_ set the alarm. But tonight was different; it wasn't about the jewels and gold - although they were a nice bonus. Tonight, Selina Kyle had a different target. One with a much better payoff.

"Returning to the scene of the crime is an admission of guilt," a voice said behind her. Selina jumped slightly in surprise, but kept her cool.

"Not if I never left," she purred, turning to face him. She paused, looking at him. "Well, I see why they call you 'Batman', but isn't the cape a bit much?"

Batman wasn't amused. "I can't let you take the jewels," he said simply. Selina rolled her eyes, scoffing.

"Sorry to disappoint you handsome, but the jewels? Not why I'm here." She smirked as she saw her words catching his attention. Without warning, she struck, aiming a high kick at him. He avoided it with a simple dodge; he matched her blow for blow, hit for hit. The two fought, undeterred, when Selina suddenly took him by surprise. She did a backflip away from him, the tip of her boot's heel connecting with his jaw. Batman stumbled back more in shock than in pain, surprised to feel the warmth of blood on his chin.

"Oh. He bleeds," Selina commented from her crouched position, smirking at him. "Good."

She charged at him again, much more vicious this time. Her heels continued trying to connect with his throat, as if wanting to slit it. When she aimed another roundhouse kick at him, Batman swept her one leg out from under her. Selina fell down painfully, her back slamming on the rooftop. With the wind knocked out of her, Selina took in deep gasping breaths as she stared up at him. "Ow," she moaned.

"You want to kill me," Batman stated. Selina shrugged a bit as she pushed herself up shakily, confirming his thoughts. "Why?"

A laugh escaped her as she smiled wickedly at him. "I can give you fifty million reasons why, handsome," she teased. At this, Batman tensed in surprise, her words not lost on him. "There's a bounty on your head; dead. Fifty million dollar reward." She shrugged in fake concern. "You're going to have a lot of assassination attempts on your hands... I suggest you watch your back."

Batman wasn't fully convinced of her motives. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because if I don't warn you, someone will kill you," she said. "And if anyone is getting that bounty, it'll be me." The sudden sound of voices caught their attention, and it dawned on them that their encounter probably caught the attention of the nearby police. It wasn't like they were on a particulary tall building. ' _Damn... should've thought of that_ ,' Selina thought. When she turned back around, her eyes widened upon seeing that the Batman was already gone. ' _What the hell?_ '

Not having anytime to contemplate it, Selina leaped onto the next rooftop, disappearing from sight just as a pair of officers arrived on the roof from the stairwell. On a higher rooftop across the street, Batman watched her disappear into the shadows. If what she was telling him was true, then he had more problems on his hands than low-life thugs. This woman was clearly trained, and any other possible assassin that had a chance to kill him would be well trained.

Regardless, he had a feeling that he'd be seeing her again, very soon.


	6. Traitors and Mad Men

A month had passed since Carmine Falcone's arrest, and the Batman's notoriety had only increased. Manhattan saw an increase of crimes-in-progress being stopped. The would-be criminals were always found unconscious ad restrained with zip-ties or handcuffs; the would-be victims all said the same thing too. That a flurry of black would suddenly appear, ripping the criminal away. They all caught different glances of the masked hero - some a cape, a few commented on pointy ears, and others mentioned an arsenal of equipment.

In any case, with each day that passed without the Batman's arrest, Mayor Wilden grew more and more uneasy. There was never any DNA left at the crime scenes, or fibers or prints. Which meant that this guy, whoever he was, knew what he was doing. In Wilden's eyes, who was to say that the Batman wouldn't flip sides and commit crimes himself?

Harvey Dent had been making excellent progress with the Falcone case, with no small thanks to the Batman. The pictures of the judge provided more than enough leverage to sway the judge to rule fairly and justly. Dent wouldn't push the judge when it came to sentencing, as long as the verdict was standard with what Falcone  _should_  get in accordance with the law. He remained tight-lipped about the situation though; it wouldn't help the case or his career if the blackmail became common knowledge.

Captain Montgomery seemed to be the only one going about his regular business. He was satisfied know someone out there was doing good in the city. Montgomery didn't exactly agree with  _how_  it was all being done, but he had an inexplicable trust in the Batman. Of course, he kept his previous conversations with the vigilante a secret. The Batman didn't raise any red flags for him, so he wasn't going to actively involved in the search for him.

Just as the Batman told him to, he was waiting for his sign. He'd let he Batman come to him if he needed to communicate. But for now, Roy was content to let the caped crusader be.

* * *

Martha found her son in the Batcave, which had grown more and more into a headquarters of sorts the past week. A set of computer screens, with a console, sat on a desk in one part of the lair. Nearby, a separate SmartBoard was mounted to the wall, specifically set to generate police reports. A small scanner on the desk was set to dispatch's frequency. On the other side of the Cave was some workout equipment that in been in storage for a while. There were also heavy duty drawers with the equipment that was taken out into the field.

And in a steel case was the Batsuit.

For only a month of work, Martha was thoroughly impressed with her son, both with the lair  _and_  the city. His alter ego was something of a 'celebrity' now, yet she noticed something different about him. He seemed... apprehensive. Whatever it was, he wasn't telling her. So, she had no choice but to trust him to tell her on his own time.

"Richard?"

He didn't answer right away, intently focused on a paper in his hands. Eventually, though, he looked up at her. a small smile as a greeting. "Just got word from the League," he said.

"Another criminal?" she wondered. Surprise etched on her face when Castle shook his head.

"Not exactly..." He sat down on a stool he had near the computers. "Apparently, there was a member of the League of Shadows who went rogue some years ago. He's been underground this whole time, but Ducard seems to think he's back and in the city."

"Is he dangerous?" Martha asked in worry.

Castle shook his head again. "He won't be a danger to us - if he wants to strike out at the League, he doesn't know I'm a member." He looked back down at the paper. "Ducard says to 'proceed with caution', just in case. I don't think he's going to cause any damage to the city, but I'll be keeping my eyes open."

Martha nodded. "Well, if you can take a break from this vigilante business for an hour and come up for dinner?"

Castle winced when thinking of the time. "Is Alexis home?"

The look on his mother's face was sympathetic. "I told her you were writing."

It was a good cover story; after all, Alexis knew that Castle could be locked up for hours, writing. But he felt guilty about not spending time with her - almost as if he were neglecting her. He knew he wasn't, but it still felt wrong With a sigh, he set the paper aside and followed Martha up the stairs. He knew he was going to have to tell his daughter his secret some day. But for now, he wanted his little innocent little girl to remain innocent. Unwilling to burden Alexis, Castle resolved to find a balance in order to manage his two lives.

* * *

"Mr. Castle, nice to see you again, Fox greeted as Castle walked in the warehouse. "So what'll it be today? Scuba diving? Mountain climbing?"

"Nope," Castle chuckled. "Something more along the lines of racing."

A twinkle appeared in Fox's eyes, a smile coming onto his face. "I've got just the thing.

* * *

A loud roar tore through the ordinarily quiet warehouse. Two levels underground was an empty and spacious room, now occupied by a moving tank of sorts.

Inside the vehicle, Castle drove as Fox held on tightly. The writer drove expertly, having learned from his father, and Fox was far too old for this. But he handled it well, simply gripping the sides of his seat. When Castle reached for the button that would lead them into a rampless jump, he swatted the writer's hand away. "Not here Mr. Castle!" Fox said simply when Castle pulled back like a rebuked child.

Eventually, Castle brought them to a stop, feeling a bit exhilarated after the drive. Fox smiled at him. "So... what do you think?"

The writer smirked in return, obviously pleased. "Does it come in black?"

Minutes later, Fox looked at Castle seriously. They were now above ground, and his gaze confused Castle. "Lucius?"

"Mr. Castle, I hope you realize what a responsibility it is to have something capable of such destruction in your possession," Fox said bluntly. Castle blinked in surprise. "Remember that this was all designed with the intent of doing good. Keep it that way."

Castle had no words for Fox's warning. It was like the man  _knew_  what Castle had been doing... Sensing his thoughts, Fox crossed his arms. "I don't ask you, Mr. Castle, so that if I'm ever asked, I don't have to lie." He fixed Castle with a stern look. "But don't take me for a fool."

This time, Castle nodded in response. "Far enough, Mr. Fox," he agreed.

* * *

Night fell over the city, and the Batman was out on patrol again, stopping crimes-in-progress and capturing criminals. Going about in the city was easier now with the tumbler in his arsenal, but eventually cops would notice the black tank roaming the streets. Concealing a tank wasn't easy, despite it's 'stealth mode' function. What probably got Castle the most excited was the rampless jump, although he had yet to try it out. Regardless, he was now fully equipped and set in his battle against crime.

He'd always known that the criminals in Manhattan were as bad as they got, that the system was crooked, and that crime was high. But it still appalled him as to how bad it truly was. It would be one thing if the cops were on the straight and narrow; they'd have a large force to battle the evils of New York. But Castle quickly learned that much of the NYPD was in somebody's pocket - Falcone, Sionis, Cobblepot, the Maronis, and the O'Malleys. The Lees were also gaining quite the payroll, but undoubtedly at the forefront was Carmine Falcone and business partner Roman Sionis.

Sionis... he had placed the bounty of the Batman's head. After interrogating a low-level thug, Batman discovered that Sionis placed $50 million on his head (dead). But tracking Roman down was easier said than done; he needed a solid lead taking him straight to Sionis. So far, he had none, which meant that Sionis was good. A neat and clean criminal were often the most dangerous, making Castle tread very lightly in his approach to finding Sionis.

The first assassin turned out to be a Selina Kyle. No record, but he knew she stole the jewels. That crime matched the M.O. of at least 13 other robberies; the fact that she never got caught told him that she was a professional criminal. He had yet to run into her again, however.

There had been a few other attempts, nothing to be concerned about. Just random thugs (and one cop) looking to make some money. Needless to say, they failed. Miserably.

Yet, as the Batman apprehended a pimp, a figure watched in the shadows, prepared to be the one to take  _him_  down.

* * *

Batman knew he was being watched; he just didn't realized that the watcher was a threat.

Out of nowhere, he was slammed from the side into a brick wall. The familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed registered in his mind and he rolled away, crouching down. From his position, Batman saw a male figure stand before him, sword in hand. He instantly recognized the figure's clothing; it was the uniform of the League of Shadows.

' _So_...' Castle thought to himself,  _'you're the traitor...'_

He stood as the Masked Assassin appraised him. The two circled about, not letting the other get too close. With a spin of his sword, the Masked Assassin charged towards Batman, swinging the weapon at him. Batman successfully dodged the swipe and grabbed the Assassin's arm, twisting him into a lock. But the Assassin would not go quietly. He knocked his head back into Batman's, stunning him enough to break free.

Flipping over the vigilante's head, the Assassin was now behind him, with only milliseconds to strike. He swung the sword again, just as the Batman was turning and stepping back. The Assassin was not pleased to learn that his sword would not penetrate the Batman's chest plate. As the sword barely left a scratch, the Assassin growled, instead punching him in the head.

Batman grunted from the impact, but recovered enough to block the Assassin's next blows. The two met each other blow for blow, both on offense and defense. Neither one could penetrate the other's defenses. But if Castle learned anything from Ducard, it was patience. Being patient was key in any fight.

Too bad the Masked Assassin learned the same thing.

He finally saw a break in the Assassin's defenses, and he went for the strike. He punched the Assassin solidly in the stomach, cutting his breath off. Using his opponent's stunned condition to his advantage, he did a roundhouse kick which sent the assassin flying ten feet away. It gave him a moment to recover, but then he was quickly heading towards the Assassin, ready to finish the fight.

In a move Batman never saw coming, the Assassin leaped up and brought his sword down towards Batman's head. The vigilante was forced to leap aside, struggling to remain upright. The Assassin followed, trying to not allow the Batman any respite. His sword hit Batman's gauntlets repeatedly as the Assassin struck on each side and Batman blocked every time.

It wasn't enough. Using his shoulder, the Assassin tackled Batman to the ground, his sword on the Batman's throat. "Wearing a cape does not make you a better fighter," the Assassin hissed. "The League taught you well." The sword dug a but, past the suit and ripped flesh. "But not well enough."

And suddenly, the Assassin stood, moving a good distance away. "Consider this my warning,  _Batman_. The League brings nothing but darkness... Cease to do their dirty work."

Batman blinked and then the Assassin was gone. Batman looked around, but there was no sign of the rogue anywhere. Standing up, he frowned.

"So that's what that feels like."

* * *

_"I believe only on student has done better than you."_

_"Who?" Castle questioned._

_"A good friend of mine," Ducard said._

_"What happened to him?"_

_At this, Ducard's eyes shot open, a fierce expression Castle had never seen before on his face. "He betrayed us. All of us. So he was banished, or ex-communicated, from the League." Ducard shook his head. "He was never seen again..."_

_'Until tonight,_ ' Castle thought to himself in self-pity. He felt like a student again, and like his training was all for naught. Ducard was right; there was someone better than Castle. If only he told him how much better...

He messaged the League via secure channel that he made contact with the rogue member. He left out the part about getting his butt kicked.

* * *

In Blackgate Prison, Dr. Jonathon Crane entered a private cell where Carmine Falcone was being held during his trial. Looking up from his book, Falcone smirked at Crane. "Ah, Dr. Crane; I was wondering when you'd show up."

"What do you want, Mr. Falcone?" Crane demanded. "I'm a very busy man."

"Oh of course, what with your recent instatement as the Warden of Arkham Asylum and whatnot," Falcone yawned. "Looking forward to staying there." At this, Crane tilted his head slightly to the side. Falcone chuckled. "What, didn't Sionis tell you? My insanity plea?"

"Trust me Mr. Falcone... Roman and I discussed it...  _in-depth,_ " Crane said, setting his briefcase on the small table in the cell. "However, I don't see the wisdom in choosing a place like Arkham over Blackgate, but to each there own." Opening the briefcase, Crane took out a small canister but left it closed. "But there's been a few changes in the plan. You will still be going to Arkham... just not how Roman asked."

"What are you talking about Crane?" Falcone demanded.

At this, Crane turning to Falcone with a small grin. "Would you like to see my mask?" He pulled a mask out of the briefcase; it was a burlap sack mask with eyeholes and twine stitched in for a mouth. Attached to it was a breathing apparatus. Falcone started, taking a step back. "I use it with my more... restless... patients." Crane pulled the mask over his head, holding the canister in hand. "Not very frightening to a man like you, but those crazies... they can't stand it."

"What the he-"

Crane pressed down on the canister, hitting Falcone square in the face with the white powder that escaped it. "They scream and cry," Crane continued when Falcone looked at him. In Falcone's eyes, the doctor didn't appear to be wearing the burlap sack. Instead the sack appeared to be melted on his head, fire shooting out of the eyeholes, black goo pouring through the openings in the twine. Falcone let out a startled cry, falling to the floor on his behind. Crane towered over Falcone as the mobster attempted putting as much space between the two of them in frenzied movements. "Just like you're doing now," Crane hissed.

Falcone screamed.

* * *

Moments later, Crane walked out of Falcone's cell sans mask. "In my professional opinion, I must recommend that you send Mr. Falcone to Arkham as quickly as possible," Crane said, Falcone's screams echoing the background. "I can't treat him here." The Warden nodded in understanding.

"You'll talk to the judge?" the Warden asked. Crane nodded.

"Of course," he said, walking away with his briefcase in hand. "I just want what's best for Mr. Falcone."


	7. Assassins

Selina Kyle wasn't a fan of the rich and famous. She kept tabs on them, of course; it was part of her job. She knew  _everything_  about New York's elite - who was near bankruptcy, who was sleeping with who, and who had the most exquisite pieces of art and jewelry. Her ears were always listening and her eyes were always watching.

Right now at a charity gala, Selina sipped her wine as she gazed a painting by Van Gogh; she failed to care much about it, especially since she already had her heart set on the bulletproof-cased jewels from Morocco. Nonetheless, she kept her distance from them, for now. With a displeased sigh, she felt someone approach her from the left.

"Did you know Van Gogh painted this while he was admitted to an asylum?"

Selina didn't look at him, but rather kept gazing at  _The Starry Night_. "Really?"

"The painting depicts his view from the north side of the asylum, overlooking Saint-Remy-de-Provence in France."

"Hmm," Selina nodded. It was a great piece of art, but she had no intention of taking it. She was realistic, not optimistic.  _The Starry Night_ was much too lucrative for her tastes; she didn't want or need that much heat on herself.

"Are you a collector?" he asked, making Selina smirk.

"Something like that," she allowed. "I appreciate fine art and its… value." She finally looked at him, smiling slightly. "Selina Kyle," she offered.

He smiled back. "Richard Castle."

"So Mr. Castle, what's your interest in art?" Selina wondered. Castle paused momentarily before speaking.

"Every painting has a story," he stated. "Whether it's told in the picture itself or not, there's always a story."

Selina nodded, thinking about this. "Ever the writer," she said. Castle looked at her.

"You read my books?" he asked in surprise.

She shook her head. "Not anymore," she admitted, shrugging when she saw his questioning look. "No offense Mr. Castle, but I prefer your older work as opposed to Derrick Storm."

Castle nodded once. "Noted."

"Richard!"

Castle and Selina both looked over to the left; Selina rose an eyebrow. "You know Mayor Wilden?"

"He's a friend of mine," Castle confirmed, setting his empty wine glass on a passing waiter's platter. "If you'll excuse me Miss Kyle."

Selina watched the writer walk off in slight amusement. Well, he was certainly different from the tabloids painted him out to be… He had been a gentleman. Formal. Selina frowned. Almost  _too_ formal.

She shook her head before walking away as well, towards the Moroccan jewels.

—

From across the room, Castle saw Selina survey a set of encased jewels. He could tell she was casing the joint, but he hadn't been able to figure out just what she was after. Selina Kyle was obviously smart about her jobs, so Castle knew she wouldn't go for  _The Starry Night_. Not unless she wanted the NYPD, the FBI, and possibly mercenaries after her.

But now, he knew exactly what her target was. And he  _wasn't_ going to let her pull it off.

—

_Damn Batman!_

She wasn't sure exactly how the masked vigilante knew she would try to swipe those jewels, but she did know one thing. Black Mask was right; the man had to be stopped.

She had barely escaped the venue where the gala was held and where the art pieces and valuables were. He had jumped out of nowhere before she could even start to pick at the locks. Unprepared for a fight, she bolted instantly but he went after her. She had lost him only due to a crime in progress; she was lucky to run past a mugging. Batman hesitated for only moments before jumping in to stop the thug. By the time he apprehended the man, Selina Kyle was long gone.

The interruption of her heist upset her immensely, and it only strengthened her resolve to kill him. She chuckled to herself as she entered her apartment. The 50 million dollars was as good as hers.

At least, that's what she thought.

—

A mugging was stopped, but Selina Kyle still got away. Even though she left empty-handed, it still irked him that she escaped—

"So… you're the  _mighty_  Batman," a voice called out, making Batman look up. A figure stood on a low building, staring down at the caped crusader. Batman immediately recognized him as Deathstroke, a well-known assassin for-hire. "Just you and me; what do you say?" Deathstroke went on, baiting Batman. The vigilante knew right away that he was after the bounty and that he had to be on his guard. Without warning, he flung three Bat-a-rangs towards Deathstroke who ran off. Batman ran after him almost immediately, using his grappel-gun to launch himself towards the assassin.

Batman managed to tackle Deathstroke mid-air, both of them landing roughly on the ground. The two were on their feet almost immediately; Deathstroke had taken out his sword and swung at Batman. The vigilante blocked with his forearms as Deathstroke tried slashing at him from both sides; eventually, he managed to sneak a kick in, and he sent Deathstroke flying and landing on his back. The assassin kipped-up to a standing position, twirling the sword in his hand.

The two stood, watching each other closely. Neither moved, neither spoke; instead, they just watched and waited. Deathstroke wore a mask that only showed his right eye, yet it was as if the man had eyes in the back of his head. Batman knew the assassin had military training and had been in the contract killing business for years; he would have no qualms about killing Batman tonight.

As if he had read the Bat's thoughts, Deathstroke tilted his head to side slightly (Batman could sense the man's smirk) before charging towards him. Time suddenly slowed down in Batman's mind; he remembered how the Masked Assassin had defeated him by charging into him with his shoulder. Deathstroke seemed to be moving to do the same thing. Batman took a small step to the side and brought his elbow up, just in time to slam it into the assassin's head. Deathstroke was surprised, but he still swung his sword down towards Batman's head.

The vigilante took a small step back and brought both his arms up, blocking the sword with his forearms. The blade pushed down, but the metal gauntlets resisted. Deathstroke pressed and Batman pushed, both trying to gain the upper hand. "You refuse to kill, despite the fact that it could save your life," Deathstroke noted. Batman grimaced.

"And you'll kill anyone to line your pockets," he retorted.

"You have to admit; fifty million dollars is an outstanding payday," Deathstroke stated. He chuckled, "Sionis must hate you a lot-"

With this, Batman had enough. He pulled his arms to their sides; the blades on his gauntlets broke Deathstroke's sword in two. The assassin was so surprised that he failed to see the headbutt coming. Having fully stunned Deathstroke, Batman proceeded to punch the man repeatedly, finally knocking him down with an uppercut to the jaw.

Deathstroke fell to the ground once more. This time, however, he did not appear to be getting up anytime soon. Placing a boot on the man's masked face, Batman stared down at him.

"Where's Sionis?" he demanded, and Deathstroke laughed.

"Like I'll tell you."

"You will," Batman growled. He grabbed Deathstroke by the neck and slammed him into the nearest wall. "Where is he?!" When he received no answer, Batman slammed Deathstroke into the wall again and punched him the head. The hit had so much force that the assassin's black and orange mask flew off of his face to the ground. Batman was surprised to see that under the mask was an older man with an eyepatch. He didn't focus too much on the man appearance (he was hardly one to judge about costumes and identities) and instead squeezed the assassin's neck, cutting off his air supply. "Where. Is. Sionis?!"

"I was gonna meet him… at the docks…" Deathstroke gasped. Batman tightened his grip on the assassin.

"When?" he demanded.

"Mid… night…"

Another slam to the assassin's head knocked him out, and Batman let him crumple to the ground. It was already 11:50; if he wanted to catch Roman Sionis, he needed to move now. He restrained Deathstroke before leaving an anonymous tip to Montgomery's precinct for someone to take him into custody. With Deathstroke headed to jail, Batman had one less assassin to worry about. But if he wanted to ensure that the bounty was void and that no more (serious) attempts on his life would be made, he had to catch Roman Sionis first.

—

New York may be the city that never sleeps, but the docks were deserted this night.

Batman stuck to the shadows as always, trying to determine where Sionis would choose as an appropriate meeting place. He had expected a few goons to be around as bodyguards of some sort, but surprisingly there weren't any around. From his vantage point, he could see the entirety of the north part of the docks— Sionis had to be around here. This area was the most secluded when compared to the southern end of the docks, and it had multiple paths for escape. The thought that he was walking into a trap didn't seem right to Batman; bounty hunters and assassins worked alone due to an unwillingness to share the earned bounty. And he read Deathstroke's file before, and all signs pointed to the man being a loner.

It was 12:05 already. This wasn't right; Sionis was a businessman. He knew timing was of the essence. Deals such as these were fragile and dangerous. If you didn't show up, the other party would think you were backing out or preparing to stab them in the back—

The realization came upon him so quickly that it almost made him jump… Sionis wasn't going to show up. In fact, the man had no intention of paying Deathstroke if he had succeeded. If Deathstroke had succeeded and came here tonight, the assassin would have met death at the hands of another assassin. That's why there was no one around; no witnesses, no loose ends.

Batman prepared to move to a different spot; he had been still for too long. There was another assassin somewhere nearby with the intention of killing Deathstroke. Maybe he could use the element of surprise to apprehend them. He jumped from the office building across the street and glided into the shadows of the docks; the crates and equipment were excellent cover. Now all he had to do was—

A gunshot echoed, and Batman instinctively ducked down. As a result, the bullet only ripped through the skin of his arm rather than go straight through his chest. He grunted as he got to cover, putting a hand over his arm in an effort to stop the bleeding.

"Come on out Deathstroke!" a voice yelled out, catching his attention. So he was right; the target was Deathstroke. In any case, he couldn't let the sniper know that he was Batman; he might try cashing in on Sionis' bounty.

Batman tried peering past the edge of his cover, but a bullet hit the corner where his head would have been. Having had enough, he pulled out a remote-controlled Bat-a-rang and sent it flying towards the sniper.

There was another gunshot, but with no actual target. It was a haphazard shot. Batman smirked; he had gotten the man's hand. With the sniper temporarily distracted, Batman took the opportunity to sneak across the shipyard, using crates and forklifts and the darkness as cover. When he finally reached the general area where the shooter was, Batman was surprised to see that the man was gone; he had practically disappeared. But he was sloppy; he left three shell casings on the ground. Batman bent down and grabbed one, looking at it intently.

Assassins coming after him was one thing. But assassins all working against each other? This could get really mess, really fast.

—

He headed straight back to the Cave via the Tumbler; he discovered that the emergency exit had a long tunnel leading to Central Park, hidden by trees and rocks. It was also big enough for the tumbler to go in and out. Once inside the safety of the Batcave, he let out a tired breath and sat down into the chair at the supercomputer. He knew he should tend to his wounds first, but he wanted to start the case file on the mysterious sniper right away.

"Richard!" Martha exclaimed from behind him. He turned around, seeing his mother enter from the staircase. "Goodness gracious; what happened to you?!"

Batman looked down at himself; he did look a bit worse for the wear… With a sigh, he took the mask off. Still in the Batsuit, Castle looked at his mother. "Mother… there's something I need to tell you," he began.

—

"Fifty million dollars?" Martha repeated as she sanitized Castle's gunshot wound. Castle clenched his fist as the alcohol stung the wound but nodded in response to her.

"But they aren't just after me; it looks like they may be after each other too," he stated. "I went to Sionis' and Deathstroke's rendezvous point, and there was another assassin waiting for Deathstroke. A sharpshooter."

"Do you know who?" Martha wondered. Castle shook his head.

"I collected a few of the shells," he said. "I have the computer scanning them for prints. At the very least I can use the serial numbers to figure out where they were purchased."

Martha made no comment, instead just stitching Castle up. The silence did make the writer a bit uneasy, but he said nothing. "I thought the suit was bulletproof," Martha said eventually.

"Yeah… he used armor-piercing rounds," Castle replied, looking over at the slightly damaged suit with a frown. "I'll talk to Lucius and see if there's something we can do about that. Not much I can do about piercing bullets though…"

When Martha finished sewing Castle up, the writer pulled a clean shirt on, walking to the computer. "No prints, and the serial numbers have been scratched off… This guy's a professional," Castle mused. Inspecting the images, his eyes squinted. "Wait…"

Martha walked over as Castle further inspected the image, zooming in on it. One of the casings had letters etched into it…

"Deadshot," Castle read slowly. Martha's brows furrowed.

"Why do I know that name?"

"Because that's the name of the sniper who killed a Israeli ambassador, US diplomat, and the Vice President of Venezuela at a UN meeting last year," Castle said, opening police reports on the shooting, "with one bullet." The news footage of that incident played on one of the screens on the wall; there was a single gunshot. The bullet shattered a glass window and pierced the three mentioned men who were all standing next to each other. To pull that off took skill and incredible marksmanship.

"And this man is after you?" Martha demanded incredulously.

"He will be now." Castle looked over at his mother, seeing the worry on her face. "Mother, no one knows that Richard Castle is Batman— you and Alexis are safe."

"And what about you?" Martha asked. "While you're out there every night protecting innocents, who is protecting you? Richard, you are my son and I love you. I can't help but worry; I don't want anything to happen to you. What would I tell Alexis?"

Castle nodded slowly in understanding before coming to a decision. "Nothing," he assured, before walking past a confused Martha out of the cave.

He went up the stairs to the second floor of the loft, walking down the hall to his daughter's room. It was early morning, but considering his daughter was an early riser she should be awake… Standing outside the door, he hesitated momentarily before finally knocking. "Alexis?"

"Come in."

Castle opened the door, walking in the room to see Alexis sitting on her bed and reading. "Morning dad," she greeted. She was still in her pajamas and nestled under the covers; Castle couldn't help but smile at his little girl.

"Morning Pumpkin."

Alexis looked at him questioningly. "Everything ok?" she asked. "You look… worried."

Castle sighed, sitting next to his daughter on her bed. "Alexis," he began gently, looking at her. "We need to talk."


	8. Fear and Secrets

**February 17, 2006**

Alexis was sitting at the kitchen island when Castle woke up later that day. When the three of them were almost mugged not even a year ago in Central Park, her dad jumped into action and left the crook unconscious. Alexis didn't think too much of it; she had still been in a stage where she thought her dad was invincible. The talk she and her dad had this morning, however, opened her eyes as to what her dad had been involved with in the past year and a half.

Alexis had been thinking about everything her dad said; seeing Ducard again, the ninja training, and now being the Batman… She heard rumors at school about the Batman. Some of the kids said he was a demon, some said he could fly, and others said he was actually a criminal. Alexis never really paid attention to what they said; to be honest, she never really believed that the Bat existed. But now, she knew better. And out of all the possible explanations in the world, she never saw this one coming.

Richard Castle, her  _dad,_  was the Batman.

Castle looked at her as he walked into the kitchen, concerned hesitance on his face. He and Alexis discussed his alter ego and all that it entailed and how it was the reason why he had been absent lately. Alexis seemed fine when they talked, but now that she had time to let it fully sink in… The writer took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.

"Morning pumpkin," he greeted. Alexis looked up at him, her face unreadable.

"Morning," she greeted in return, pushing a cup of orange juice towards him. He smiled gratefully before drinking a gulp of the liquid. "So… sleep well?"

Castle paused, looking at her curiously. He finished swallowing and put the glass down. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Alexis shrugged, shaking her head slightly. "Nothing."

Castle frowned; her tone of voice signaled that she was anything but fine. "Alexis, seriously. Talk to me," he insisted, leaning towards her. "What's going on?"

The redhead opened her mouth, but then let out a sigh. She shrugged again and looked at her dad in uncertainty. "I… I'm just not sure how to deal with this," she admitted. Castle nodded slowly, slightly discouraged but still understanding.

"I know… And I'm sorry for putting all of this on you," he apologized, making Alexis tilt her head. "But, Alexis, remember this; you are my number one priority. If there's ever a time that you want me to stop, then just say the word. I'll stop," he promised. His daughter looked at him surprise before she shook her head.

"I can't just ask you to stop saving people; that would be selfish of me," Alexis countered. "I may be confused by it now, but I will be okay with it Dad, really. I just need time to get used to it." Castle kissed his daughter's hair as she hugged him. "But Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you teach me how you beat up that mugger?" she asked. Castle chuckled at her eagerness.

"That I can do."

* * *

That night at New York Harbor, Harvey Dent was accompanied by a harbor worker and a cop. Dent appeared moments ago with a warrant, much to the harbor worker's chagrin. Together, the three of them walked amongst the crates. "This is the one I'm talking about," Dent said, pointing to a dull green container.

"What about it?" the worker asked.

"It shouldn't exist," Dent stated. "The ship left Singapore with 246 containers. This one is number 247. So I'm guessing that there's something I'm not supposed to find in there."

"Mr. Dent, we don't want to know what's in Mr. Falcone's crate," the worker countered. Dent turned to him with a smirk on his face.

"In case you haven't noticed, things are working a little differently now," he said. "Open it." The worker let out a loud sigh and opened the crate. Dent walked forward to inspect it, eyes narrowed.

It was empty.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the midst of Chinatown, Batman was breaking into an apartment. He had been on patrol when he saw cops he knew to be corrupt walking in and out of the building. The number of them was enough to warrant suspicion; the fact that some of them carried packages called for further investigation. Slipping in through the window, Batman looked around the apartment. It was old and practically abandoned… but why did it smell like oil in here?

Out of nowhere, a powdery gas struck his face, rushing into his lungs and his bloodstream. Batman stumbled back, grunting and gasping for breath as images assaulted his mind.

_Alexis screaming as faceless men dragged her away._

"Having trouble, are we?" a voice asked from the shadows.

_The CIA burying a casket that they knew was empty._

Batman was pushed into an old chair; a man wearing a burlap sack as a mask loomed over him.

_The loft was on fire, and neither Martha or Alexis could be found._

"Take a seat," he said, opening a beer bottle and pouring it over the vigilante. "Have a drink."

The beer was warm and felt thick. In Batman's mind, it wasn't beer but blood being poured all over him. He gasped, trying to wipe the liquid off, his movements frenzied and frantic. "You look like a man who takes himself too seriously," the man went on as Batman stumbled out of the chair. He flicked on a lighter as the Batman pushed himself to a standing position.

"In my professional opinion?" the mysterious man asked. "I think you need to lighten up."

He threw the lighter at Batman, making him catch on fire before kicking him in the chest. The vigilante broke through the window behind him, falling out into the rainy night and down towards the concrete ground. In his hazed condition, Batman managed to fire his grapple-gun at a building top to stop his fall. The cord stopped him only a few feet off of the ground before he released it to fall to the ground completely. He was hardly on fire anymore; the pouring rain quenched the flames rather quickly.

With difficulty to keep a hold on what was real and what wasn't, Batman stumbled into a dark alley where he stashed the Tumbler. He heaved himself inside, setting the autopilot to take him to the cave.

On the entire drive over, the images flashed in Batman's mind. Alexis being taken. Martha dead. The loft on fire. It wouldn't stop.

_A gravestone marked Rodgers… His dad's gravestone…_

He passed out before he got home.

* * *

Castle awoke with a start.

His eyes were blurry as he looked around. He was in his room at the loft, but… how did he get here? Looking at himself, he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Groaning softly, Castle pushed himself out of bed and walked out of his room into his study. Everything seemed in order; computer was in place, the door to the Batcave was shut―

He stopped short when he heard voices; one male and one female. Confused, Castle left his study and walked into the kitchen. He blinked in surprise.

"Lucius?" he said in surprise.

The dark-skinned man looked over as did his mother. "Darling!" Martha exclaimed, standing up from her seat at the kitchen island. "How are you feeling?" she asked, hugging him tightly.

"I've been better," he answered truthfully. He pulled back from his mother, looking between her and Fox. "What happened?"

"You came back from patrol unconscious," Martha began. "You were feverish and pale—"

"You were poisoned," Fox supplied. Castle's brow furrowed as he began recalling what happened that night. The man in the burlap sack, the hallucinations Castle experienced…

"I called Mr. Fox when your condition worsened after the first day," Martha continued, making Castle blink.

"Wait,  _what_?! First day? How―" He looked at the two of them. "How long have I been out?!"

"Three days," Fox answered. "I analyzed your blood, isolating the receptive compounds in the protein based catalyst."

Again, Castle blinked as he looked from his mother to Lucius."Am I supposed to understand what you just said?" he wondered, utterly confused.

"Not at all," Lucius grinned. "I just wanted you to understand how hard it was. Bottom line, I synthesized an antidote."

Castle nodded in thanks. "Could you make more?" he asked.

Lucius tilted his head slightly. "I'll bring what I have. The antidote should be enough to inoculate you for now." He clapped a hand on Castle's shoulder. "Do try to be a bit more careful." He turned to leave. "Goodbye Martha, pleasure to see you again."

Martha smiled. "You as well Lucius."

As soon as the door close behind the man, Castle turned on his mother. "You know Fox?" he questioned. Martha smiled gently.

"He worked with your dad for many years," Martha said as an explanation. "Alexis will be home soon; she'll be happy to see you awake." Castle winced.

"What did you tell her?" he wondered, making Martha look at him questioningly.

"The truth," she replied. "What?" she demanded at his look of incredulity. "There wasn't much I could do anyway. She was the one who found you."

Castle blanched. "She saw me like that?!" he exclaimed. "What was she doing down there in the first place?"

"Waiting for her dad to return from his vigilante duties," Martha snipped, not liking how accusatory he sounded. "Richard Castle, you knew things would change when you started all of this. And you can't hide these things from Alexis; she wants to be involved."

"No she doesn't," Castle countered in confusion. "She doesn't know how to deal with it; she said so herself."

At this, Martha smirked. "Well, you know what they say," she shrugged, eyes shifting to the hidden cave entrance. "Actions speak louder than words."

With that, she walked back into the kitchen, clearly finished with the conversation. Castle watched her for a moment before turning back towards his study and staring at the secret door. Curious, he opened the door and went down to the cave. Martha hinted that Alexis did something in here while he had been in a coma, and he found exactly what his daughter did with no difficulty.

Next to his SmartBoard where he had open cases he'd been working on was a cork board mounted on an easel. On it were notecards, photos, newspaper clippings, etc. A list of Selina Kyle's activities over the past three days, notes on Fox's antidote and Castle's symptoms, notes on Castle's theories about Roman Sionis's possible whereabouts, etcetera. Alexis must have put hours into this to ensure her dad could get up-to-date when he woke up. Castle couldn't fight the proud grin that came onto his face.

"Daddy?"

Castle turned around to see Alexis at the base of the stairs, watching him curiously. One smile from the writer was all it took to break the ice; Alexis ran towards him and jumped into his waiting arms. Castle hugged his daughter tightly, a small chuckle escaping his throat. "I'm sorry Alexis," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," the redhead said, pulling back. "Just don't keep me out of the loop anymore, ok?"

Castle smiled, looking back at all her (mostly correct) work. He turned back to her. "Deal."

* * *

Selina Kyle was out again, slinking in the shadows of a Queen Industries warehouse to find her next heist. There had been no shadow of Batman for the past couple of nights. The bounty hadn't been claimed, and the body was never found, so he wasn't dead. Nevertheless, Selina wasn't going to waste this opportunity. If the Bat was out of town, now was the perfect time to pull a job—

"Is this a bad time?"

_Damn…_  Selina thought. She looked over to see the masked man walk out of the shadows and towards her. "Actually, your timing sucks," she retorted, tensing up. Batman noticed and raised his hands slightly, keeping them in her sight.

"I'm not here to fight," he rasped. "I'm here to warn you."

Selina cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You need to be careful," Batman explained. "Sionis isn't going to pay you the fifty million― He had Deadshot waiting to kill Deathstroke."

Selina scoffed. "Everyone wants to kill Deathstroke."

"Selina," Batman growled. "Don't do this."

The woman merely smirked. "You forget to say please." Before Batman could say anything else, Selina launched at him with fire burning in her eyes. She was determined and skilled; this made her more dangerous now than she had been before. She was a flurry of swipes and kicks; she was fast.

But Batman was faster.

Her bladed heels seemed to be constantly aimed for his throat, just like last time. This time, however, he grabbed her leg mid-kick and threw her away from him. She softened her landing with a backflip, before turning to glare at him. Having had enough, she pulled out a small dagger and ran back to him. As they continued fighting, she knew the weapon wouldn't do much against his suit, which was clearly armoured, but if she could get it close enough to his head—

A clashing was heard, making both of them stop. It unnerved Selina as she looked around. Seeing the Batman unfazed, she scoffed. "Friend of yours?" she hissed. As soon as the words left her mouth, a figure jumped down to where they were, landing in a silent crouch.

It was the Masked Assassin.

Selina looked at him in shock as he stood up, before rolling her eyes with a scoff. "I didn't realize this was a costume party," she muttered.

"You made a mistake coming here tonight," Batman warned, staring at the Assassin. Batman was in no mood to continue fighting assassins. He had come here to warn Selina about the betrayal she'd meet, hoping to convince her stop gunning after him. However, the man merely chuckled.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here…  _Mr. Castle_."

Selina's jaw dropped, her head snapping to the right to stare at Batman. Choosing to worry about how the Assassin knew his identity later, the vigilante put himself in between the Assassin and Miss Kyle― she may be a criminal, but the Masked Assassin was dangerous and could easily hurt her. "Castle? As in Richard Castle?" Selina hissed at him.

"Not now."

"You were following me at the gala, weren't you?" she went on indignantly.

"Selina,  _not now_!" Batman snapped before attacking the Assassin.

Watching the two men fight, Selina didn't notice how their fighting styles were similar or how they seemed to be evenly matched. All she could think about was the fact that Richard Castle,  _the writer_ , was the feared Batman. Come to think of it, the press hadn't seen much of the writer in the past couple of days either.

_And no one will ever make the connection that they were both missing at the same time… or that they're the same person!_  Selina mused. But she understood why no one would come to the realization. After all, the millionaire playboy writer becoming a vigilante? Yeah right.

Unlike in their previous fight, the Assassin fought without a weapon. The two League trained men fought hand-to-hand, and it seemed as if they were equally matched. The Assassin had more experience, but Batman was clearly the more tactical of the two. He analyzed the Assassin's movements and maneuvers, looking for a vulnerability to exploit. Swordsmanship was obviously the Assassin's speciality, and that didn't escape the Batman's attention. The fact that this fight was merely hand-to-hand was the reason they were so evenly matched.

The Assassin grabbed the Batman's arm in an attempt to put him in a lock, but the vigilante saw it coming and pushed the Assassin's weight against him and twisted his arm free. It was followed by a kick from the Batman, but the Assassin avoided it by mere inches; the ninja tried to sweep Batman's legs out from under him, but the attack was dodged.

Finally, the both stopped their attacks and stood a good six or seven feet apart. They studied each other carefully, waiting to see who would strike next—

"Look boys, as fun as this is, I've got an outlaw vigilante to kill," Selina interrupted, twirling the dagger in her hand. Her gaze shifted to Batman. "Considering you're a writer, I'm sure your last words will be poetic."

As the Masked Assassin tilted his head in what Batman recognized to be silent amusement, Batman assessed the situation. Selina was drawing attention to herself and putting herself in danger, but at the same time was trying to kill him. The Assassin was preoccupied with Miss Kyle and also trying to kill him. Either way, he had no allies here.

Quickly coming up with a plan, he subtly pressed the EMP button on his belt. The lights flickered off.

When they came back on, the Masked Assassin stood in the warehouse alone.

* * *

Selina struggled against the zip-ties that restrained her wrists. "How the hell did you do that?!" she demanded. They were in the tumbler, driving into the city.

"Trade secret."

Selina rolled her eyes. "I know you're Richard Castle, you can stop with the voice now." Batman sent her a sideways glare, but didn't dignify her statement with a response. "What's the matter?" she continued. "Cat got your tongue?"

Instead of replying to her, Batman instead reached into her pocket, earning an indignant 'Hey!' from the thief. When he retracted his hand, there was a microchip in his hands. At Selina's surprised look, he explained, "I saw you swipe it while I was dealing with him. Planning to sell it to one of Queen's competitors?"

Selina huffed in petulance, sinking into the passenger's seat. "Killjoy." She noticed that his voice was not gravelly when he spoke; it did sound like the writer she had met at the gala nights ago. "So now what?" she asked.

"Central Booking," was the only response. But it was enough to send Selina into a panic. She had been stealing for years and managed to stay under the radar all this time. And now she was going to jail, all because the writer decided to turn a new leaf and be all self-righteous? Not a chance.

But as they neared Central, Selina found herself running out of options and ideas. Desperately, she played her only card.

"If you do this, I swear I will tell everyone who you are," Selina warned.

Batman smirked at her. "No you won't. Because once word gets out about my true identity, your chances at getting that bounty to from slim to none." Selina deflated at his call to her bluff.

He grew serious once more as he pulled the tumbler over; Selina found herself being handed over a pair of officers who were too shocked at the Batman's presence to do much else. With his voice disguised, Batman informed the police what exactly she should be charged for. He turned over the microchip before looking at Selina. "Goodbye Ms. Kyle."

He got back into his vehicle and drove off, leaving an upset thief and two confused police officers in his wake.


	9. Enemies and Allies

**February 21, 2006**

She escaped.  _Of course_  she escaped. She probably bolted the minute he was out of sight. Had he expected her to just give up and let herself be charged?

Hoped? Yes. Expected? Not so much.

Castle rubbed his eyes as he read the police report for the ninth time. The officers reported that the Batman had dropped an unidentified woman off at Central Booking after she made an attempt to steal a valuable chip from a Queen Industries warehouse. The trio had barely made it inside the door when Selina disarmed one of them and escaping their grasp. She proceeded to run east, but officers lost sight of her within moments.

Apparently the officers didn't hear the Batman say her name, nor did they get a good look at her face. So she was still unidentified by the NYPD and still able to fly under the radar.

Castle berated himself. It was an error on his part to leave her in the hands of two officers, and now he had to go and find her all over again, and this woman was becoming a thorn in his side.

Knowing her the way did, however, he had a feeling he knew  _exactly_ where she was going to be tonight.

Looks like he was going to have to dig out his tux again.

* * *

"Can I sit?"

Selina's head snapped to the side, seeing none other than Richard Castle standing there, a charming smile on his face. Feigning disinterest and nonchalance, she looked away. "No," she said simply, sipping her champagne.

"Wow…" Castle stated, moving to take a seat despite what she said. "Someone's not happy to see me." He looked at her cat ears and her mask, smirking. "That's a brazen costume for a… cat burglar."

Selina tilted her head to the side, sizing him up. It was a masquerade ball, yet he wasn't wearing a mask.  _Strange, considering he wears them every night_ , she thought to herself sarcastically. "And who are you pretending to be?"

"Richard Castle, eccentric mystery writer," he grinned, and Selina rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, Mr. Castle?" Selina questioned, setting down her champagne flute,

Castle leaned forward, a more serious look appearing on his face. "Well Miss Kyle, we seem to have an… unusual… problem here," he began. "You obviously want me dead, and I find myself becoming less and less concerned with your well-being."

Selina hummed in agreement, looking at him through her lashes. "So what do we do about that?" she mused. "Fight it out here, see who comes out on top?"

A noise of dissent came from Castle. "Too much collateral damage."

"True," Selina agreed. "Plus, it'd be a shame since they'd probably ask me to leave once you're dead." Castle shot her a look to which Selina simply grinned. Deciding to take a different approach, Castle stood up and offered her a hand.

"Dance with me."

The grin fell off of Selina's face. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding, Miss Kyle?"

Not one to back down, Selina stared Castle straight in the eye and took his hand. The two made their way to the dance floor, a mix of tango and flamenco being played by the band. "So who was your mark tonight?" Castle questioned as they began dancing. Selina wasn't happy about having one of her hands being held securely by Castle, but kept a cool facadé. Deciding to indulge him, she looked over to her left.

"Blonde woman, red sequin dress." Castle looked over.

"Ahh, Senator Bracken's wife," he noticed. "So I guess no one's off limits with you then?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Mr. Castle," Selina hissed. "I take what I need from those who have more than enough." She fixed him with a hard look. "I don't stand on the shoulders of those with less."

Castle was unfazed. "Is that how you justify stealing?"

Selina looked away from him, choosing her next words carefully. "I started out doing what I had to. Once you've done what you've had to, they never let you do what you want to."

"Then start fresh."

"There is no fresh start in the criminal underground," Selina scoffed. "Not unless you have a lot of power and a  _lot_  of money."

"The bounty?" Castle surmised dryly. Selina smiled coyly.

"There's a lot a girl could do with fifty million."

Castle simply stared at her for a moment, before releasing one of her hands and spinning her into his chest. Selina smirked as she felt him search her; looking over her shoulder to see his face, she rose an eyebrow. "Satisfied?"

"Not quite."

She was suddenly facing him again, her gun in their joined hands. A brief flash of surprise flickered on her face, but she shrugged it off. "Oops."

Managing to ditch the gun in a passing waiter's pocket, Castle continued to lead their dance. "You think killing me is what'll bring you a happy ending?" he questioned.

Selina didn't even look at him. "Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet."

"Don't you think you're being a bit cynical?" Castle asked, looking at her face. She met his gaze.

"I think you're being unrealistic about what's really in your pants  _other than your wallet_."

Castle winced. "Ouch."

Reaching up the slit of her dress, Castle found a small blade strapped to Selina legs. He pulled it out of it's sheath, inconspicuously (and carefully) tossing it to embed into the nearest wall. "You really don't trust me, huh?"

"You've hardly given me any reason to," Castle countered. Selina shrugged.

"Aren't you good guys supposed to be forgiving and trusting?" she challenged, allowing Castle to dip her.

Bringing her back up, Castle looked at her closely. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not stupid, Miss Kyle."

Selina met his gaze for a moment before grabbing his tie and pulling him down to kiss him. It lasted for seconds, then Selina was walking away, leaving Castle standing there, alone. He watched her until she was out of his line of sight before sitting at the bar and ordering a water. "Scare your date off?" the bartender wondered, handing Castle the glass. The writer looked at the last place he saw her.

"Not likely."

* * *

As Castle walked out, he frowned when he couldn't find his valet ticket. "I must've lost my ticket," he told the younger man. At this, the valet blanched nervously.

"But… your wife said you were taking a cab home." Castle did a double take.

"My  _wife_?"

* * *

A red Ferrari sped out of the city and into the the Hamptons, the female driving smirking in victorious pride.

* * *

Castle walked into his study, tugging at his tie and grumbling to himself. Not only did Selina steal his Ferrari, she also pickpocketed him.  _How did she even do that—_

"She still seeks to take your life?"

Castle spun around to see the Masked Assassin standing in his study as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here," Castle growled.

"I've no intention to fight you tonight Mr. Castle," the Assassin assured. "I come merely to speak with you."

"Not interested," Castle said plainly. Despite any promises or reassurances the man could make, the writer knew better than to trust him. This guy went rogue and betrayed the League of Shadows, had figured out Batman's secret identity, and broke into Castle's home. He was dangerous and Castle had no interest in trusting him.

"You told Miss Kyle my identity," he decided to start with.

"I was trying to assist you," the Assassin began, only to be cut off by a snort from the writer.

" _Assist me?_ "he repeated. "In what way does revealing my secret identity to a criminal  _assist_ me?"

"Because, despite her current objectives, you may find that she can be an excellent ally."

"An ally? You're kidding me, right?" Castle retorted. "And this, coming from you? You tried killing me,  _twice_."

"Ah, that last time, you took the first punch," the Assassin countered, "not me."

Castle went to argue but realized the man was right. He crossed arms, eyeing him closely. "And the first time?"

"I was testing you."

"Testing me?" Castle repeated in disbelief.

"I wanted to see how well Ra's al Ghul trained you," the Masked Assassin explained. Castle's brows furrowed; he still suspected that Ducard was Ra's al Ghul, but wouldn't be sure until he confronted him about it, face to face.

"Ok, say I believe you," Castle began slowly. "You were "testing me", and you revealed my identity to Selina so I'd gain an 'ally'— crappy idea, by the way— Why?" he demanded. "Why the interest in me, and how did you find out about me?"

"Mr. Castle, I make it my business to know all the League does," the Assassin stated. "Its operations, its plans,  _and_  its newest recruits. As for why you in particular… well, to be honest, I don't quite understand you." Castle tilted his head slightly in confusion. "You fight for justice, you fight crime… yet you ally yourself with Ra's al Ghul."

"Why do you care?" Castle asked, still confused.

"You know what the League does and what they are capable of!" the Masked Assassin exclaimed. "You may be keeping your moral code, but there will come a time when they will ask you to compromise it. When they return, when they come to 'clean' New York, will you stand by them as they—"

"Dad?"

Castle turned around at the sound of Alexis coming down the stairs. As much as he loved his daughter and was glad she was home safe, her timing was horrible. He turned back around, knowing the Assassin would be gone. And sure enough, he was. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he left the study, wondering what the masked man had been about to say. He knew the League would be returning soon, as Ducard said.

But why did the Assassin make it sound like it was such a bad thing?

* * *

"You should be in bed," Castle said later that night. He and Alexis were both in the Batcave, working on different projects. It was getting late, and Castle was getting ready to leave to go on patrol; Alexis offered to stay up to act as a 'guide' of sorts for him.

"You know, just listening to the scanner, looking stuff up for you if come across a crime scene, that sort of thing," she explained. "Like an oracle."

"Don't you have school tomorrow?" Castle asked, opening the case with the Batsuit.

Alexis shrugged. "This is more important, isn't it?" she countered. Castle stopped mid-action, her words registering in his mind. His head turned back to his daughter and he let out a sigh before going to sit next to her.

"Alexis," he began, the redhead looking at him earnestly, "what happened? Why are you suddenly so invested in this?"

"I just want to help," his daughter said slowly, not meeting his gaze. "That's all." When she did look back at her dad, Alexis saw the look of disbelief in his eyes. He clearly wasn't buying her excuse; she sighed.

"Dad, you said you started this because of my kidnapping," Alexis began. "And I know what you're up against; assassins, common crooks, even the NYPD! When I found you that night… after you were attacked with the hallucinogen…" Her voice trailed off and Castle was overcome with guilt. He pulled Alexis into his arms; this was why he didn't want to tell her, and why he wanted to shield her from his alter ego. But she didn't cry; Alexis just let out a shuddering breath before nodding. "It made me realize how dangerous this whole thing is, and how you're completely on your own  _every night._ " She looked up at him. "I don't want you to do this alone."

"Alexis, this isn't something I want you getting involved with," Castle said sternly.

Alexis rolled her eyes. "Come on Dad, it's not like I'm suiting up and going out there myself; I am perfectly safe here in the Cave."

Castle studied her for a moment and saw that she wasn't going to back down. "Fine," he began, quickly cutting off her shout of excitement, " _but_ I have conditions," he warned. "You can only stay up till midnight on school nights. You need to have all your homework done, and if you have a test the next day you don't get to help at all."

"Ok," Alexis exclaimed in agreement, bubbling over with excitement.

"And you are not ever going to see combat," Castle assured. "Am I clear?" He knew that if he didn't draw that line right away, it could possibly lead to Alexis following in his footsteps; that was something he did not want at all.

His daughter didn't seem to mind, and that brought tremendous relief to the writer. "Crystal," she agreed before hugging him tightly. "I won't let you down dad, I promise."

* * *

Oftentimes, when a case got particularly difficult, or when he needed to just escape, Montgomery would go to the roof of the Twelfth Precinct. It was one of the taller building on the street, giving the Captain a decent view of the area around him. The sounds of traffic were distracting, yet peaceful.

"What happened to Falcone?"

Roy jumped, turning his gaze away from the ledge; the Batman walked out of the shadows towards him. He was starting to get used to these random meetings, but he still got surprised whenever the masked man appeared out of thin air.

"Falcone was seen by a psychiatrist," Montgomery informed as he straightened up. "Dr. Jonathan Crane, head of Arkham Asylum. Falcone's been transferred to the asylum due to a psychotic break leading to a comatose state."

"He's unresponsive?" Batman questioned, pieces of the puzzle starting to come together in his mind.

"All he seems to be capable of doing is drooling and saying 'scarecrow,'" Montgomery supplied. "Now if this happened right after his arrest and he was muttering something about bats instead, then I'd understand."

Batman let that one slide, knowing it was probably true. Anyway, that wasn't important right now. Falcone was suffering the same symptoms Castle had been suffering after the incident in Chinatown. The name 'scarecrow' seemed fitting for the man who attacked him that night; however, what were the chances of that being the name of the terrorizer Falcone was seeing in his mind?

Crane was an expert in how the human mind works, and he was the only one to see Falcone before the man's transfer. Batman looked at Montgomery. "Get a group of officers you trust and go over to Arkham in 20 minutes— Crane's up to something."

"I already have a detective there," Montgomery said, a bit confused at the Batman's conclusion. "She's been working on a homicide case; victim was an employee at the asylum."

"Died by poison?" Batman guessed, getting his answer from the captain's look of surprise. "If she went to question Crane, then she's in danger."

* * *

In Arkham Asylum, Dr. Jonathan Crane entered his office to find a young woman standing there. "Can I help you, Miss…?"

"Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD," she announced, holding up her badge. "I have a few questions for you." Crane looked from her badge to her face, a small smile coming onto his face.

Oh... this was going to be fun.


	10. Detective Beckett

Detective Beckett followed Doctor Crane through the halls of Arkham Asylum as they spoke. "Dr. Crane, Miss Adams was your assistant and found dead in your office," Beckett stated.

"I already told you Detective, I don't know why she was in my office," Crane interrupted, not breaking his stride. Frustrated, Beckett stood in front of him, blocking his path.

"We both know that that's a lie, Doctor," she argued. "You were the last person to see Miss Adams alive."

"Detective Beckett―"

"Witnesses saw the two of you arguing at the entrance of the asylum, Dr. Crane," Beckett continued.

"And after that, I proceeded to meet a business associate for dinner," Crane claimed. "He and the wait-staff can tell you that I was there."

Beckett's eyes narrowed, her arms crossing. "I'll be sure to check on that," she assured. She looked away for a moment; that was when she noticed where they stood. The window to her left opened into a patient's room. More specifically, it opened into Carmine Falcone's room. Her stance shifted and she straightened.

"Detective, if you have something else you want to say," Crane hinted, narrowing his eyes at her as he saw the change in her posture. Beckett looked from Falcone to Crane, face blank. But she steeled herself, suspicion appearing on her features.

"I just find it a bit convenient that a man in his 60's who has no history of mental illness suddenly has a psychotic break right before he's about to be indicted," she confessed, venom in her voice.

"As you can see for yourself, Detective," Crane said with a gesture towards the mobster, "Mr. Falcone's condition is nothing but  _in_ convenient. He's fallen into a comatose state that leaves him incapable of doing anything."

Beckett narrowed her brows as she looked back at Falcone. "Incapable of doing anything?" she repeated.

"That's right."

The detective turned towards the window. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but he's speaking right now," she observed. It was true; with straining ears, both the doctor and detective could hear the word  _scarecrow_ leave Falcone's lips repeatedly. "Why scarecrow?"

Crane shrugged. "Often times, patients suffering delusional episodes focus their paranoia on an external tormentor. In Mr. Falcone's case… a scarecrow."

Beckett turned to the doctor. "He's drugged?"

"I'm a strong advocate of keeping our patients under control," Crane said smoothly. "That way, they can't hurt anyone around them. Or themselves." Crane looked away from Detective Beckett to the window where Falcone could be seen. "In the outside world, Falcone was a monster. A giant, who only cared about himself and would hurt anyone to get what he wanted. In here, however, only the mind can grant you power, and Mr. Falcone has proven to be nothing more than a deeply disturbed man."

Beckett's eyes narrowed, sizing the doctor up. "You enjoy the reversal," she noted.

"I appreciate, and respect, the mind's power over the body," Crane grinned. "It's why I do what I do."

"And I do what I do to keep criminals like Carmine Falcone behind bars and not in therapy," Beckett hissed, brushing past Crane. "Don't leave town."

Crane took in a calming breath before turning around. "Detective," he called out. Beckett turned towards him, impatience in her eyes. Crane merely smiled. "Allow me to show you something," he offered. "It may help you find the answers you need."

Beckett watched as he walked towards the elevator, completely calm. With a sigh, she followed him into the elevator, hoping he wasn't simply wasting her time.

When the doors reopened, Beckett stepped off behind Crane, keeping her eyes peeled as they walked through the basement. Crane pushed a door open, and light flooded the hallway. He stepped inside, not bothering to see if the detective was following him. She was hesitant, but Beckett entered the room as well, stopping mid-step at the sight that greeted her.

"This is where we make the medicine," Crane explained, continuing to walk forward. Beckett looked around in confusion; this place screamed 'illegal' in every sense. Between the appearance, the people in it, and the fact that they were making medicine in here? Beckett was ready to call dispatch and take Dr. Crane downtown for questioning; Crane's next words broke her train of thought. "Maybe you should take some."

At this, Beckett frowned. "What—"

Her words died in her throat. When she turned to face Crane again, the doctor was wearing a burlap sack over his head, a canister in his hand. He looked like a… "Scarecrow," Beckett breathed, realization dawning on her. She grabbed her gun, but she was quickly sprayed with the gassy toxin. She coughed harshly, dropping her service weapon. When she looked back up, her mind made Scarecrow's mask appear to be melting, with fire escaping his eyes.

"Who knows you're here?" Scarecrow asked, his voice distorted. Beckett cried out in fear, falling to the ground as she stumbled back. " _WHO KNOWS?!_ "

Beckett let out a terrified scream just as the lights suddenly went out. It was dark for a few moments before the generator kicked in, the emergency lights flickering on. Scarecrow looked around, a pleased noise escaping him. "He's here," he announced.

"Who?" one of his thugs asked. Scarecrow cackled.

"The Batman."

"What do we do―"

"I heard he took out ten guys at once―"

"I heard it was twenty―"

"Can he really fly―"

"I heard he can disappear into thin air―"

"ENOUGH!" Scarecrow shouted. "Despite what he may be able to do… even the mighty Batman isn't immune to the compound."

This seemed to satisfy the thugs who began spreading out to track down the vigilante. A clatter made them all jump, pointing their jumps in the same direction. The sound of footsteps drew their attention, but there was a clang heard in the opposite direction. All of the armed criminals were facing different directions, and none of them were sure where exactly the Batman was—

A black figure dropped down in between two of the thugs. Both were startled at his sudden appearance, neither able to pull the trigger before Batman began throwing punches. He instantly knocked one out, but the other barely managed to avoid a brutal hit. The thug pointed his gun at the Batman, but the vigilante grabbed his arm and twisted it before knocking the gun from his grip.

When a third goon spotted them, he fired. The Batman, still gripping the second thug's arm, flung a bat-a-rang at the armed man. It sliced him in hand, making him drop the gun; that gave Batman time to knock the captive thug out and send the third sprawled out on the ground.

Hearing shouts, Batman blended into the shadows, waiting for the next moment to strike. There were yells of worry and terror as two other goons realized that their "co-workers" were out cold. They may have been hoping to take the Batman down, maybe even collect on Black Mask's bounty, but it was proving to be more difficult than they had anticipated.

Positioned on a pillar, Batman waited patiently till one of the goons stood directly below him. Hooking himself to the pillar with the Bat-claw, the vigilante quickly lowered himself and grabbed the thug; an inverted takedown. Screams of horror echoed in the basement as the Batman released him to hang upside-down by his ankle.

Moving to a different vantage point, Batman watched as the last thug rushed to the barely conscious and hanging thug. "How the hell did you get up there?!" was the surprised demand.

Without warning, Batman came up behind him and knocked him out. Plain and simple.

The sound of light footsteps alerted the Batman to one last presence in the basement. He waited till they were close, then countered their attack. It was Scarecrow, attempting to gas Batman once more with the fear-inducing compound. Trapping Scarecrow in a hold, Batman ripped the villain's mask off.

He frowned as his suspicions were confirmed; Scarecrow was Doctor Jonathan Crane. "Taste of your own medicine doctor?" he asked before gassing Crane with the compound. Crane simply laughed at the futility of it.

"You can't attack me with my own creation Batman," he taunted. Growling, Batman slammed Crane into a pillar.

"What have you been doing here? Who are you working for?" he demanded. " _NOW_  Crane!"

Crane blinked at him. "Dr. Crane isn't here right now… but if you'd like to make an appointment―"

Batman knocked him out with a head-butt. The man was out of his mind and would provide no answers. Looking around, he noticed an opened pipe, water gushing through it.  _What were you planning, Crane…?_

A whimper caught his attention, making him turn towards the sound. It was a young woman, curled up on the floor, holding her head. Rushing to her, Batman took her wrist in his hands, feeling her pulse; it was too fast. He also took note of her difficulty to breathe. But the shine of her police badge was what snapped him into action; it was Detective Beckett.

Grabbing her discarded service weapon and tucking it away, Batman took the unresisting cop into his arms and rushed outside.

It was still just Montgomery outside, as the backup he called for still hadn't arrived. "What the hell happened to her?!" Montgomery demanded when he spotted Beckett in Batman's hold.

"Crane," Batman answered. "He poisoned her with a psychedelic hallucinogen; it's a panic-inducing drug. He's been smuggling his drugs in with Falcone's shipments." He took a moment to think. "He may have been dumping it into the water supply."

"What was he planning?" Montgomery asked, looking from Beckett to the vigilante.

"I don't know yet," Batman said, before turning his attention back to the detective. Her eyes flickered between the Batman and her captain, scared breaths escaping her. "Crane is restrained and unconscious inside in a hidden basement. But Detective Beckett needs medical attention, before the damage becomes permanent."

"How long does she have?" Montgomery wondered in concern.

"Not long."

The captain moved quickly, turning towards the street. "I'll get my car."

"I brought mine."

That stopped the captain short. He noticed how the Batman's voice faded a bit towards the end of the sentence. And did he say… "Yours?" Montgomery questioned. An engine roared to life, making him turn around and jump to the side as a large black object zoomed past him. Seeing it fly by and smash into objects without slowing down, Montgomery's jaw dropped.

"I have  _got_  to get me one of those."

Two unsuspecting cops who sat in a crushed car that the Tumbler ran over immediately contacted dispatch.

"The Batman has been spotted! He is in a vehicle!"

_"Make and color?"_

"It's a black…" The officers exchanged unsure looks, "tank?"

Speeding through the streets of Manhattan, Batman drove the Tumbler, trying to determine the quickest route to the Batcave's entrance. "You've been poisoned," Batman told Beckett. "I need you to stay calm."

Detective Beckett turned to him with wide eyes as he sped through the streets, weaving through traffic. "You're…" She could barely speak, her breathing was so sporadic. "You're him," she managed though a gasp. "The Batman."

Batman barely glanced at her as he squeezed them between two buses. "Breathe slowly," he ordered. "It'll help focus your mind." Somehow, Beckett did as told, feeling the poison's effects subside, if only a little bit.

Before he could make the turn towards Central Park, Batman realized that they were being followed. Police cars, two of them, were on his tail. Cursing, he turned the opposite direction to make a detour. He'd go the long way; he should lose the cops by then, and hopefully still be able to get the antidote to Detective Beckett in time.

Gritting his teeth, he floored it.

The police officers pursuing him were doing all they could to keep up with the Batman. His vehicle shouldn't be able to move the way it did, but it could, so they had to make do with their clearly inferior cars. More units joined the chase, some firing at him.

Inside the Tumbler, Beckett let out a startled scream as the bullets bounced off of the vehicle. Realizing she was getting worse faster than he anticipated, Batman's hands tightened on the steering wheel. He turned to her slightly, concern gripping him. "Hold on," he pleaded.

He turned towards a parking garage, speeding through the barriers and towards the ramp. "What are you doing?!" Beckett demanded incredulously as they sped through the parking garage.

"Shortcut," was the only response.

The police officers followed them up the ramp to the rooftop. The Tumbler remained still, as the officers blocked the ramp to prevent him from leaving. An officer exited his vehicle, megaphone in hand.

"Turn off your engine, and step away from the vehicle!"

Of course, Batman would do no such thing. Instead, he flicked a switch that began changing the Tumbler ever so slightly. In fact, all the changes occurred outside the Tumbler, giving it little gliders all over. Beckett looked at the masked man in surprise and slight fear as he slid into a cockpit.

"Trust me."

He fired the canons, opening a path for him to drive off of the roof. While the officers were all staring at the new hole in the wall, no one paid attention as Batman began speeding towards it. As he launched into a rampless jump, the NYPD officers could only watch in complete awe as the Tumbler flew off the parking garage roof onto the roof of an apartment complex.

From the parking garage, the officer felt his jaw drop open. "Who  _is_ this guy?!" he exclaimed.

Batman drove from roof to roof, using the rampless jump feature multiple times to keep them up.

" _What street is he taking?"_

" _He's not on a street, he's flying on rooftops!_ "

Leaving the cockpit, Batman looked at the GPS navigator; Central Park was coming up. There were a few cop cars in the streets below, but they would soon be left in the dust. Batman took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He sent Beckett an apologetic look; "Hold on tight," he warned. Before Beckett could question him, he sent them into a rampless jump, but not towards another roof.

They flew off the building, over the tree line, and into the Park.

Beckett screamed and Batman grit his teeth; they landed right on paved ground inside the park, out of sight of all cops. He made sure to stay off of the grass to prevent leaving a trail, at least until he got to the secluded area of bushes and trees that would cover his tracks.

" _Stealth mode activated._ "

Looking over at the detective, Batman saw she was struggling to stay calm. Her hands were tightly gripping the seatbelt and her breaths were tight and long. Batman placed a hand on shoulder, seeing her slightly jolt out of her trance.

"Stay with me," he said gently. Beckett looked from the hand on her shoulder to him and gave him a tiny nod.

They were quickly approaching the hidden entrance to the lair. He could see the hidden entrance beginning to open. "Just hold on," Batman repeated. Despite his words, Beckett's head drooped to the side, her eyes fluttering closed. With a frustrated growl, Batman sped through the entrance, letting it close behind them.

Finally, he slammed to a stop as they got into the lair. He was out of the Tumbler before the door was fully open, rushing to the desk where a vial of the antidote sat. He filled a syringe with the liquid, hoping that it wasn't too late. With a deep breath, Batman grabbed her arm and plunged the needle in, giving her the antidote.

The serum now in her bloodstream, Batman attached the heart monitor Fox had left behind to her. Her heart rate started picking up again, and she was breathing properly. He waited for a few more moments before letting the tension leave his body.

Detective Beckett was unconscious, but still alive. Letting out a sigh of relief, Batman plopped into his chair for a few minutes of rest. He checked her vitals and saw that she was perfectly fine; it was as if Scarecrow had never gotten to her. Convinced she was going to be fine, Batman took out her wallet and found her address.

She needed to get home.

Not even an hour later, Batman was breaking into the detective's apartment and laying her on her bed. After making sure the doors and windows were shut and locked, the vigilante slipped out into the night, hoping that the young woman would never have to face something like this again.

* * *

When Castle returned home, his mother was waiting for him in the study. She stopped her pacing when she spotted him, rushing to pull him into a hug. "Oh Richard, thank goodness!"

Castle stood still, completely unsure about what was going on. "Mother?" he questioned. Martha suddenly pulled back and smacked his chest, making him wince out of instinct rather than from pain. "Hey!"

"Richard Castle, what on earth were you thinking?!" she demanded. Castle, still at a loss as to what was going on, shrugged slightly.

"Do you think you could be a bit more specific?" he suggested. Martha grabbed the remote control and turned the TV on (with a little more force than necessary); Castle watched as footage of the police chase appeared. Oh. So that's what got his mother so worked up.

"What do you call that?" Martha demanded, pointing at the television.

"Damn good television?" Castle shrugged, hoping to defuse the situation.

"It's a miracle no one was killed!" Martha lectured.

"A woman's life was at stake, Mother," Castle argued. "I didn't exactly have time to observe the rules of the road."

His mother studied him for a moment before shaking her head. "I have supported you through this, but enough is enough. Tonight proved that things have gone too far," Martha insisted. "You need to stop this."

There was a moment of silence as the writer processed what his mother had said. "Stop?" Castle repeated slowly, disbelief coloring his voice. "Stop helping the city? Stop saving people?"

"You're getting lost in this bat-persona of yours," Martha challenged in concern. "You are a writer, for goodness sakes, Richard! You're not some hardened vigilante!"

"Every night,  _I_ am out  _there_. Risking  _my_  life," Castle argued. "That  _bat-persona,_ as you call it, is the only thing between the innocent and the predatory."

"That may be, but—"

"Not 'may be!' _It is!_ When the mugger or thief stops to think twice,  _that_ is fear;  _that_  is what I am. It's why Roman Sionis hired assassins to kill me; it's why Roy Montgomery trusts me and why the NYPD doesn't. Because  _I_ am the reason the criminals breathe easier when the sun rises!"

Without another word, Castle stalked off back into the cave, letting the door slam behind him.

* * *

In the CIA's New York Headquarters, Lucius Fox walked towards the regional director's office, wondering what exactly his boss wanted. The last time Director Quinn spoke to Fox directly was when Richard Castle asked to hang around for research months ago; Quinn deemed the writer important enough to handle the arrangement personally.

Quinn's secretary let him into the office; the director was sitting at his desk, reviewing a file. "Mr. Fox, have a seat," he stated without looking up. Fox did as told, waiting for Quinn to finish doing whatever he was doing.

Finally, Quinn looked up at him, but his eyes portrayed urgency. "Mr. Fox, I need some information," he began, getting right down to business. "It's a product; 47B-1ME?"

"1ME…" Fox repeated, wracking his brain. "A microwave emitter," he recalled, nodding in satisfaction. "They were designed to vaporize enemies' water supplies. Rumor is that they were tested, dispersing water-based chemical agents into the air. It's legal, however, so production was halted."

Quinn's lips formed a thin line, brows furrowed. "I want all the information on the development of the device; all the data, files, back-up disks,  _everything_ , on my desk ASAP," he stated.

Fox's brows furrowed. "Did you lose one?"

A smile that appeared to be more of a smirk appeared on Quinn's face. "Mr. Fox, you understand the sensitivity of this information," he began. "I know things are a bit different down in Applied Sciences, but don't need to remind you of keeping things classified, do I?"

The tone of the director's voice was one that Fox knew well. Keeping his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself, Fox nodded cordially as he was dismissed. Exiting the office and mounting the elevator down the hall, he kept asking himself the same question.

_What was going on here?_


	11. Turning the Tables

_**February 25, 2006** _

When Castle left the loft, he made sure to avoid Martha; he still felt a bit guilty about the argument they had only a few days ago. They remained civil towards each other, but the tension was what killed Castle the most.

Walking down the street, Castle easily blended in with those around him. His training made it simple for him to embrace his surroundings and be practically invisible to everyone around; the people he walked past wouldn't remember seeing him if asked later.

However, he made it only two blocks when he felt it. There was someone following him; their presence was a sharp knife in the back. Castle walked normally, continuing for another block, but the tail was still persisting. A part of him wondered if it was Selina back to try to finish the job. Ducking down an alley, Castle continued walking. Suddenly, the sensation was gone.

Castle's brow furrowed and he turned around, looking back the way he came. No one followed him, and no one who walked past the alleyway on the street struck him as the tailing-type.

He heard footsteps from behind him and he turned away from the street, surprise etched on his face at who stood there.

Henri Ducard melted out of the shadows, a pleasant smile on his face as he nodded once. "Hello Richard."

* * *

Montgomery sat in his office, reading over Beckett's report about the Batman incident. The detective wrote that, due to her drugged state, she couldn't remember much. She did remember riding in the Batman's vehicle alongside the vigilante, but any more specific details were a blur.

The phone rang, and Montgomery picked, continuing to read the file. "Montgomery."

_"Sir, you need to come down to Arkham._ "

"Can it wait?"

_"No sir, it's urgent. You need to come down here. Now."_

* * *

Ducard led Castle to a warehouse a good fifty blocks from the loft; to the average person, nothing seemed out unusual. But to the trained eye, one would instantly recognize it for a covert and temporary base. "How long have you been back?" Castle asked, the two of them standing alone in the center of the abandoned warehouse.

"A few days," Ducard answered, turning towards the writer. "It's time."

"Time?" Castle repeated, brows furrowed.

"The attack on New York," Ducard explained, surprising Castle. "It all ends tonight."

Castle sucked in a breath. "A bit of a heads-up would have been nice," he muttered. "What's the target?"

At this, Ducard's face grew solemn, hardness in his eyes. "The entirety of Manhattan."

The severity of the situation hit Castle, but he remained strong. This was it; this had to be what Crane was behind. His incarnation must have encouraged whoever the doctor was working with or for to speed up the plan. "Do you have your men out there?" Castle wondered, motioning to the city.

"Yes. They are carrying out their orders," Ducard answered, walking past Castle to gaze out the window. It was a limited view, but the ninja gazed upon it intently. "Finally, the corruption and poison this city has produced will wither away and die… This is a good day Richard."

An unsettled look came onto Castle's face. "I wouldn't call it good," he countered. "People could dying tonight." Ducard remained silent, leaving Castle to stare at him. He finally shook his head, "We should probably get going—"

"Not just yet, Richard," Ducard interrupted, still staring out the window. "There is something we must discuss."

Castle blinked. "You want to talk? Right now?" he asked incredulously. "Ducard, look, you gave me a job: To protect this city. That's what I'm trying to do."

"Protect New York?" Ducard questioned, turning to face Castle. "No Richard. I told you to correct the evil in New York. To destroy crime." Castle's brows furrowed in confusion, not liking what Ducard was hinting at. "Imagine my surprise when I find out that every man or woman I told you of ended up in jail."

"Of course they ended up in jail," Castle stated slowly, watching Ducard closely with narrowed eyes. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Prisoners are eventually released, Richard. And, more often than not, they return to their life of crime." Ducard took a step towards Castle. "The only way to prevent this… is to destroy them." Castle's eyes widened. "If someone stands in the way of true justice, you merely walk up behind them," Ducard said, "and stab them in the heart."

* * *

At Arkham Asylum, Montgomery was inspecting the crime scene, where Beckett had been poisoned by Dr. Crane. His gaze finally came to rest upon metal canisters, dozens of them. Walking to a CSU investigator, he asked, "They put any of this stuff in the water supply?"

The investigator looked at him solemnly. "They put it  _all_ of it in."

Montgomery blinked in surprise. The CSU investigator motioned to their left; when Roy looked, his heart sank into his stomach. There was a large gaping hole in a pipeline, where water gushed through. It was one of the main water pipes… there was no way to isolate the toxin.

"Get me Mayor Wheldon on the phone," Montgomery ordered. " _Now_."

* * *

Castle blinked in shock. "You… you wanted me to  _kill them_?" he breathed, taking a step away from Ducard. His eyes narrowed in disgust. "No! I'm not an executioner."

"Your compassion is a weakness your enemies do not share," Ducard said calmly. "It didn't take long for Roman Sionis to place a bounty on your head, and it took even less time for assassins to come after you." His tone reminded Castle of his early training days, two years ago. But this conversation, everything that Ducard was saying…

Castle never saw it coming.

"That's why it's so important," he countered. "It separates us from them."

Ducard shook his head. "If you are not prepared to do all that is necessary—"

"Was lying about who you really are necessary," Castle interrupted, "Ra's?" He smiled inwardly when he saw that he caught Ducard—  _Ra's,_  Castle thought,  _his name is Ra's_ — off guard. The man eventually smirked, and Castle could see a hint of pride in his eyes.

"How long have you known?" Ra's questioned.

"I've suspected for a while." Reality suddenly hit him and Castle swallowed. "So. This  _attack_ ," his voice was filled with distaste, "is yours? Crane was working for you." Ra's nodded once, confirming it. The writer shook his head in disbelief. "That toxin… you're going to release it into the city?"

"Richard, I don't think you understand the significance of what is happening today," Ra's insisted. "The League of Shadows has been a check against human corruption for thousands of years.  _We_  sacked Rome. Loaded trade ships with plague rats. Burned London to the ground." Again, Castle was shocked. "Every time a civilization reaches the pinnacle of its decadence, we come to restore the balance."

"'Restore the balance?'" Castle repeated. "You're destroying millions of lives!"

"Only a cynical man would call what these people have 'lives,' Richard," Ra's scoffed. "Crime and despair? This is not how man is supposed to live." He looked at Castle closely, trying to make him understand. "New York's time has come… It  _must_  be destroyed."

"New York isn't beyond saving," Castle argued. "Give me more time. There are good people here." Ra's shook his head in disagreement.

"You are defending a city so corrupt, we have infiltrated  _every_  level of its infrastructure."

Castle was only able to shake his head. He walked past Ra's, running a hand through his hair. Shocked, conflicted, confused… the writer wasn't sure which described him the best. Ra's mistook his silence for uncertainty and indecision, and went on.

"Richard, the world pushed you into a life, a role that went against who you truly were. You were lost in that shell of a man," he said, and Castle winced at the truth of his words. "But  _I_  believed in you. I showed you a path. You were my greatest student… I look at you as if you were my own son." Ra's looked at Castle pointedly. "It should be you standing by my side, saving the world."

How could it be that the man who trained Castle to be New York's 'hero' turned out to be the writer's definition of a villain?

"Richard, please, for your own sake," Ra's insisted. "There is no turning back."

How could Castle save Manhattan and still be loyal to Ra's?

"No."

Ra's eyes narrowed; he stared at Castle, watching him closely. "What?"

"No, Ra's," Castle turned to face his former mentor; a man who had been a friend, a confidant, and a father figure. "You're wrong." Castle took a step forward, meeting Ra's' gaze. "You're what we're supposed to be fighting against." At this, Ra's stiffened, and Castle knew he struck a nerve. "Call the attack off," he ordered.

"Don't be a fool Richard," Ra's warned. "You are dealing with a force beyond your comprehension. Gotham will be destroyed."

"No. It won't," Castle countered, disappointment filling him. "Because I will stop you."

"I doubt it."

Castle suddenly found himself fighting Ra's al Ghul; the two of them were punching and blocking, kicking and dodging. It had been a long time since they fought each other, but one thing was clear: Ra's had taught Castle well.

"A traitor," Ra's snarled as the two faced each other down. "Just like your father."

At this, Castle froze. His father?

How did Ra's know him?

" _There was once another man like you within our ranks…" Ducard stated. "He was one of the greatest students I have ever trained."_

" _What happened to him?" Castle wondered._

_Ducard's eyes shot open, a fierce expression on his face. "He betrayed us, all of us. So he was excommunicated from the League… He was never seen again."_

Castle put the pieces together. The traitor… the Masked Assassin… Could it be that Castle's father had never died?

"You never did learn to mind your surroundings," Ra's scolded. Before Castle could register his words, he was hit in the back of the head, a grunt escaping him as he collapsed to the ground unconscious. A member of the League stood behind him, and more came into the room. "Burn everything," Ra's ordered, looking down at Castle's still form.

"His survival is entirely up to him."


	12. Preparing for Battle

The fire moaned, swallowing up more and more of the warehouse. Castle had yet to wake up; the blow he had taken to the head had been powerful. It had been less than 20 minutes, but already the building's structures were falling apart. The fire was growing hotter, melting the metal beams; the ceiling creaked in warning.

A beam fell not even five feet away from Castle, and the jolt of its impact woke him up. He started, looking around with bleary eyes before he started coughing roughly. His lungs yearned for air, and Castle found the desire difficult to satisfy. The lack of oxygen prevented him from moving around too much; he found himself laying on his back, staring at the burning ceiling as his vision faded, his mind drifting towards unconsciousness once more.

As darkness encroached his vision, he could vaguely hear the tapping of footsteps approaching. Looking over, he saw a man dressed in ninja attire.

"…ichard…"

His eyes began drooping shut, feeling the life drain from his body.

"Ri…ard…"

The man was at his side now, trying to maintain Castle's attention, but the battle was already lost.

"Richard…"

His eyes shut closed.

* * *

With a sharp and silent intake of breath, Castle shot up to a seated position, eyes wide open. Looking around, he saw that he was no longer in the burning warehouse, but on the couch in his study. Confused, he saw the TV on, but muted, with a live news report about the warehouse fire.

He saw the Masked Assassin only seconds later, standing with his back to the writer, observing the books on display. Castle looked at him; the man hadn't noticed the writer was awake yet. Standing up, Castle watched him for a moment before speaking, his voice tinted with hope. "Dad?" he questioned warily. "Is that you?"

The Assassin didn't move for a moment, instead growing stiff. Eventually, he turned to Castle, shaking his head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you Richard," he apologized, "but I am not your father." Castle deflated slightly, but nodded in understanding. It had been a foolish hope to begin with, and Ra's knew which buttons to push to distract him.  _Damn Ra's._  Pushing personal feelings aside, Castle grew professional once more.

"You were right about Ra's," he acknowledged. "You tried to warn me, and I didn't listen."

"I didn't realize you were unaware of his true nature," the Assassin said in reply, equally apologetic. "You are lucky to be alive."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Castle looked at his watch. Five o'clock; a little over an hour since Ra's left him in the warehouse. They needed to act quickly if they wanted to stop him and the League of Shadows.

"Ra's has a fear-inducing toxin in his possession," he began, "and he's planning to release it onto the population. I need to stop him."

"I'm at your service," the Masked Assassin assured. Castle nodded.

"There'll be an extraction team coming in for Ra's," he realized, knowing that the terrorist wouldn't stick around to die with the city. "Can you find the rendezvous-point?"

"I have an idea of where they'll be." Castle could sense the man's smirk under the mask. "And what shall you do?" the Assassin asked, already knowing the answer. Castle turned and began walking away.

"I'm going after Ra's," he confirmed, "and I'm going to put an end to this."

Her phone rang and without checking the caller ID, Selina picked up. "Hello?"

* * *

" _Miss Kyle."_

The thief's body grew tense as she swallowed roughly. With an apprehensive breath, she spoke. "Mr. Castle."

" _I need your help."_

Selina paused, an incredulous look on her face. "And why would I help you?" she asked smugly.

" _To save the city,"_  came the response.

After the Masked Assassin had left, Castle realized that neither Alexis nor Martha were around; he began to panic. In the Batcave, Castle used the supercomputer to track them through their phones, seeing that they were unharmed and spending the day out shopping. Castle watched them via security cameras, but knew that he couldn't go after them himself.

" _Sorry to disappoint you, handsome,"_ Selina scoffed over the line,  _"but I'm not the hero-type."_

"Selina, I'm not asking for myself," Castle said softly. "I'm asking for my daughter." At this, heard a sharp intake of air on Selina's end. He waited silently and patiently for her to respond, but they were running out of time.

" _What do you need me to do?"_  Selina finally asked, making Castle sigh in relief.

"Crane's been working with a terrorist group; they're going to attack the city in less than two hours and they know who I am. They'll go after my mother and daughter. I need you to get them out of the city and to keep them safe."

_"You trust me with that? With your family?"_  Selina's voice was filled with surprise and doubt.  _"After I tried to kill you?"_

"I'll admit, I have my reservations," Castle began, "but I'm starting to think that maybe there's more to you." Castle paused, choosing his words carefully. "You may be a thief… but you're not a killer, Selina."

In her apartment, Selina nodded, her eyes shut closed. "Ok," she agreed. She heard the line cut, and knew he ended the call.

As she got up and prepared for tonight, Selina felt a sudden tightness in her chest. She shut her eyes closed for a moment, realizing why the feeling was there. She would never ever admit it, but she didn't want to let Richard Castle down.

In the Batcave, Castle began to suit up. Like Ra's had said; it was time.

* * *

Using the information Castle had sent her, Selina easily found Martha and Alexis. She couldn't spot anyone tailing them, but still proceeded with caution. The two were about to exit a shop when Selina finally intercepted them.

Alexis gasped in surprise, grabbing Martha's hand tightly. "You!" she exclaimed, taking a step back. Martha looked at Alexis confused before seeing what her granddaughter was staring at.

Selina held her hands to her sides, showing that she wasn't going to harm them. "I don't know how much the two of you know―"

"We know that you've been trying to kill my dad!" Alexis hissed quietly, anger painting her voice. Selina blinked at her in surprise.

"Oh… Ok."

It was Martha who spoke next. "You listen here," she began, her voice calm but her eyes dangerous, "I don't know what you plan to do right now, but if it's my son you're trying to hurt, then you are playing a very dangerous game."

Selina shook her head. "I'm not here to hurt you," she promised. "Rick sent me."

Alexis crossed her arms. "My dad sent you? You? The woman who has been trying to kill him?"

"Look, you don't have to like me; you don't have to even trust me," Selina argued, "but at least listen to me. You two are in danger. We have to get out of the city, now. Crane is launching his attack tonight." Seeing that the redheads refused to budge, Selina looked at Martha, "July 21, 1996."

At this, Martha's eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly. After a few moments, she nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

Alexis looked at Martha in surprise. "Grams?"

Martha turned to her in reassurance. "It's alright Alexis." She squeezed her hand gently. "We have to go."

* * *

"The water's been poisoned; one of our own experienced the effects of this poison, and she nearly died," Montgomery told Mayor Weldon over the phone. "We need to evacuate the city now!"

" _Captain, do you understand what you're asking me to do? Order an evacuation New York City over an attack that may or may not occur?"_ Weldon said over the line.

"We still don't know who Crane was working with," Montgomery insisted. "They could still―"

An explosion rocked the building, making all of the officers stumble. Montgomery was one of the first ones to recover; he rushed to the window and looked down, following the smoke to its origin. He felt his heart sink to his stomach.

There was a massive mob of people wearing orange jumpsuits pouring out of the building. "The inmates are escaping!" Montgomery heard someone yell, and that was what snapped him into action.

"Get all available units to make a perimeter; I want the area surrounded within a five-block radius!" he barked. "I want that hole blocked off and a head count of how many inmates are still locked up."

* * *

As the NYPD began struggling to get the situation under control, Ra's al Ghul and a group of his men were preparing the micro-wave emitter.

"Spread the word, gentlemen. And the word is…" Ra's announced, flicking the machine on, "panic."


	13. The War Begins

Montgomery had been organizing the police perimeter when the first blast wave hit; the poison settled over Arkham like a fog. Somehow, it registered in his mind that this was the same toxin that nearly killed Detective Beckett, and Montgomery quickly covered his nose and mouth with cloth. He knew it wouldn't protect him for long. He could see both officers and SWAT falling prey to Crane's toxin, beginning to go crazy with fear.

Montgomery ran into a deserted alleyway, trying his best to not inhale the toxin. He took his phone out.

"Dispatch, this is Captain Montgomery," he spoke through the cloth. "Get me the Commissioner!"

* * *

Castle stood in the Batcave, geared up and ready to go. Hearing a beep, he picked his cell phone up from the computer console and read the text message.

_We made it out. On our way to the safehouse._

_Good luck._

_-S_

Relief poured through him as he put the phone down; Martha and Alexis were safe. But the battle had only begun. He knew had to move quickly; the inmates from Arkham Asylum had been freed and when Ra's released Crane's toxin, the already dangerous convicts would tear the city apart. Based on the chatter he was hearing on the police scanner, the cops had their hands full already. Making his way to the Tumbler, Castle pulled on his cowl.

Batman got into the tank and raced out of the lair at full speed. The Tumbler's engine roared as it left the Central Park entrance and pulled into the city streets. Activating his encrypted line, he called Lucius Fox and turned his voice disguiser off.

"Fox. What kind of equipment can be used to vaporize the city's water supply?"

In his office, Lucius Fox nearly choked.  _The missing microwave emitter..._

If Castle was asking about it, that meant that New York City was in a  _lot_  of trouble.

* * *

"So I'm on my own?!" Montgomery shouted, his anger directed at Commissioner Loeb.

_"I'm sorry Roy,"_  Loeb said,  _"but I need officers to evacuate the city and if I send them to your location, they're just going to get poisoned too."_  There was a long pause.  _"I'm sorry."_

Montgomery ended the call, unwilling to hear the Police Commissioner's excuses. It was a waste of a phone call; he wasn't getting any back-up and all the talking he did allowed the toxin to go into his lungs, bit by bit. Roy felt the poison's effects beginning to take hold and he couldn't fit it anymore. The world was growing hazy and cold.

Montgomery stumbled back, hitting a solid frame. He winced when he felt a sharp point pricking his skin, but the fearful fog faded away. Looking back, Montgomery saw Batman disposing of a needle. "What the hell?" he demanded.

"Antidote to the hallucinogen. The same one that saved Detective Beckett," the vigilante explained. "You're lucky I got to you in time."

Montgomery accepted this with a nod. "Most of the inmates from Arkham Asylum escaped," he stated. "Someone let them out."

Batman's fists clenched. "It's all a part of Crane's plan," he informed, purposefully saying Crane and not Ra's. "His toxin is being activated by the use of a microwave emitter; it's vaporizing the water supply and sending the hallucinogen airborne. Letting the inmates run rampant increases causalities."

"Shouldn't the whole city be tearing itself apart at this point then?"

"That was only the first wave," Batman explained, recalling what Lucius had told him. "After the initial blast, the emitter sends out a total of 3 blasts; one every ten minutes. Each one has a larger radius and is stronger than the last. The main hub for the water supply is directly underneath the reservoir in Central Park, and by the time they reach it, the fourth and final blast will be powerful enough to cover all of Manhattan."

"Covering the island in this poison," Montgomery realized before looking at his watch. "The next blast is coming in less than five minutes."

"Which means we have thirty minutes to save the city," Batman finished.

With a deep breath, Montgomery looked the vigilante in the eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

Batman lifted a car fob. "Can you drive stick?"

* * *

Detective Beckett was speeding in her car towards Arkham Asylum; that fog and the people's screams could only mean one thing. Crane's toxin. She was hoping that the antidote the Batman had given her practically vaccinated her against the toxin's effects, so it wouldn't effect her. She also knew that Montgomery was at Arkham, and would need back-up.

The second shock wave came out of nowhere, flipping her car from the blast. The unit landed upside down, as did a few other cars. Beckett gritted her teeth as she gathered her bearings, trying to let her cop instincts take over. With a groan, she pushed herself out of the car onto the street, wiping the newly formed cut on her forehead. The city streets were a mess as people ran and cars collided into each other; there were already bodies littering the streets.

The situation was worse than she thought.

* * *

As the microwave emitter was being loaded onto a train, Ra's al Ghul watched as the city and its inhabitants ran itself to ruins. The death toll was growing and there were still two more blasts to go. In only twenty minutes, New York would finally be destroyed.

The screams were loud and close, Ra's noticed; however, the screams continued to get closer and louder. Looking into the distance, he was mildly surprised to see a black mass flying towards them. As it neared them, Ra's smirked under his mask. It was Richard.

When Batman landed on the platform, the nearby League members unsheathed their swords, prepared to strike if necessary. Ra's only shook his head, making them stand down. Taking a step toward the masked vigilante, he looked down at him.

"Well, well," he mocked. "It appears you took my advice on theatricality a bit… literally."

"It ends here," Batman stated. "Either you call off your crusade, or I'll stop you myself."

"You can attempt to," Ra's commented, "and I know it will be a valiant effort. But no matter what you or the police do, New York falls tonight."

Batman clenched his fists. "Last chance, Ra's."

"I held high hopes for you Richard," Ra's countered, "and it pains me to see it all go to waste." With that, Ra's turned and began to board the train. Two League members stood their ground, preparing to fight the Batman. The vigilante smirked.

"I can't beat two of your pawns?" he asked, almost offended at the insinuation.

At this, Castle's former mentor cocked his head to the side, eyes filled with mirth. "As you wish," he agreed. The four remaining ninjas stood with the original two, preparing to fight.

Batman growled.

* * *

_GPS online_  the Tumbler's systems announced.

The Tumbler sped down the streets, Montgomery at the wheel. He did smash the side of police car, making the captain wince in apology.

* * *

Beckett was doing her best to keep people, poisoned or not, from killing each other. But she was practically on her own, as she had yet to receive back-up.

"The only thing fear has to fear," a voice shouted, making Beckett turn around, "is fear itself!"

The detective glared at the man. "Crane!" she shouted, taking out her gun and pointing it at him. He was on top of a police horse, wearing his mask.

"No," came the response. "Scarecrow!"

Without warning, she fired the gun, hitting him in the shoulder. Crane fell off the horse with a loud cry, landing on the pavement as the horse galloped away. Beckett rushed to him, quickly handcuffing him.

"You have the right to remain silent," she stated, "so I suggest you shut up."

* * *

A roundhouse kick nailed the last ninja in the head, rendering him unconscious. Batman looked at his handy work before taking out his grappel-gun to connect to the train, which was bound to leave at any second.

"Batman!"

The caped crusader turned to see Slade Wilson approaching him. He must have escaped along with the other inmates. The assassin stumbled every few steps, and his shoulders rose and fell at a rapid pace. Even his weapons, a gun and make-shift bo, were unsteady in his hands. Batman clenched his fists; poisoned, Slade would prove to be much more dangerous.

"You… you have to die," Slade moaned, his voice hoarse. "I… I have to… kill you." His gun shook as it rose to be level with the Batman's chest. "You… cannot… survive."

With a growl, Batman launched at Slade, knocking the gun out of his hands. Slade briefly snapped out of his daze, but his mind was still plagued with the toxin's visions. Batman's mask seemed to be melted onto his face, black goo pouring out of his eyes and mouth. Slade roared at the monster he saw and swung the staff at him.

"Now I understand why Sionis wants you dead!" he hissed, as the two fought. The Batman's appearance only grew more grotesque in his mind. "You're an abomination!"

Batman growled at Slade again, using the man's drugged state against him. Slade was nowhere near the skill level he had portrayed when they last fought. Snatching the bo from him, Batman snapped it in half before punching Slade in the face. The man fell to the floor unconscious.

"At least I'm not a murderer."

Handcuffing Deathstroke to a dumpster, Batman looked back at the train, which was beginning to pull out of the station. At that moment, the third blast struck.

Batman flew back from the blast, the grappel-gun falling out of his hands. His ears were ringing as he struggled to push himself up. Looking around, he could see armed SWAT officers surrounding him, approaching very slowly. They were poisoned, he realized, and wouldn't hesitate to shoot him down.

He released a smoke pellet, instantly confusing the SWAT officers, and grabbed the grappel-gun.

He fired and jolted into the air as the train pulled him along. Batman held onto the rope with all his strength, narrowly avoiding the steel pillars that held the railroad up. There were people on the streets below him, all running in chaos.

On a street, Beckett shoved Scarecrow into a police car. She locked it up so Crane couldn't escape, just as the train and Batman rushed past her. The detective's eyes widened in surprise before relief went through her. If the vigilante was on the scene, then maybe they could stop this madness after all.

Seeing the Tumbler race past the train, Batman finally pushed the retract button on the grappel-gun; he flew up towards the train. Crashing through the window and into the train car, Batman pulled himself up and found himself facing a surprised Ra's. Batman stared his former mentor down. He had offered Ra's a second chance, which the man refused to take. There was no turning back now.

Ra's frowned at Batman, disappointment painting his voice. "You will never learn."

The two launched at each other, Ra's with a sword and Batman with his hands.

* * *

Montgomery reached Central Park, but he still had to reach the reservoir and, more importantly, the railroad tracks above it.

* * *

A military-grade helicopter landed near the reservoir, ready to take-off the moment Ra's al Ghul stopped the train and boarded the helicopter. The pilot and co-pilot remained inside, while the other two League members stood outside the aircraft to stand guard. A shuriken went through one of the ninja's uniform, embedding into his skin. He swayed before collapsing unconscious. The second ninja didn't have time to react when the same thing happened to him.

"What the hell?" the pilot exclaimed. "Go check it out."

The co-pilot left his seat, and came face to face with the Masked Assassin.

"Boo."

He punched the co-pilot in the face, knocking him out, when he hissed in pain. Looking at his arm, he saw a dagger sticking out. He looked at the pilot, who was standing and ready to fight. The Assassin didn't wince as he pulled the knife out of his arm; he held onto it, positioning into a ready stance. The pilot was overly quick to attack and rushed at the Assassin, who merely stepped aside to let the pilot run past him. From behind, the Assassin did a roundhouse kick that connected with the pilot's head, sending him flying into the ground unconscious.

Taking out his sword, the Masked Assassin stabbed the control panels, making the helicopter incapable of piloting. Ra's no longer had an extraction. The Assassin only hoped that Richard was coming along equally successful.

* * *

"Familiar," Ra's commented as they fought. "Haven't you learned anything new?"

Batman trapped the man's sword in between his gauntlets. "There's this!" He pulled his arms to the side, shattering Ra's blade and proceeding to headbutt him. Ra's stumbled back, grasping his head, as Batman rushed to the train's control panel. He stabbed it with a bat-a-rang before Ra's wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him back. Grunting, Batman elbowed Ra's in the stomach and throwing him over his shoulder to the floor. Ra's reacted quickly, swinging 180 degrees on the floor and sweeping Batman's legs out from underneath him.

Both men stood up quickly, fists ready. Batman attacked first, kicking high which Ra's easily blocked. The terrorist's fists connected with Batman's jaw just as Batman regained his footing; the vigilante responded with a well-aimed punch to Ra's ribs.

"You spoke of justice," Batman growled, as the two continued fighting. "Stopping crime. But you're prepared to commit genocide?"

"I'm prepared to do all that is necessary to end the plague of corruption that spreads from New York," Ra's countered, avoiding a hit. "The same cannot be said about you."

* * *

Montgomery reached the railroad tracks at the point where the entered the park, hitting the buttons Batman told him too.

_Weapons system activated._

He found himself sliding into a cockpit, with two triggers revealing themselves.

_Armed._

Montgomery fired, and missed completely. He frowned in frustration.

* * *

Ra's sent his hand to impact with Batman's neck, making the younger of the two choke momentarily. It was a long enough distraction to punch Batman in the gut, cutting off his air supply even further, followed by another punch to the jaw.

It sent Batman to fall face down on the floor. He began pushing himself up when he suddenly felt a wire wrap around his neck. Gasping for air, he struggled against the wire, but Ra's held it tightly, using it strangle his former student. Standing behind Batman's kneeled and struggling body, Ra's looked away from the sight, unwilling to watch.

"Don't be afraid, Richard," he whispered gently.

* * *

Montgomery fired again, this time hitting the base of the pillar. He could hear the metal moan as the base was weakened, but it wasn't enough. He fired again and still, nothing happened. On a screen, he could see a warning that the train was approaching.

Gritting his teeth, Montgomery focused. He breathed evenly, lining up the shot, and fired.

* * *

"You are just an ordinary man in cape," Ra's reprimanded. "That's why you couldn't stop injustice and why you can't stop this train."

Still gasping for air, Batman looked through the window in front of them. A breathless and satisfied smirk came on his face when he saw what he had been waiting for. Taking in a breath, he managed to respond. "Who… said anything about… stopping it?"

At this, Ra's looked up, following Batman's gaze. He felt his blood go cold when he saw it; the tracks were collapsing. The shock made him loosen his grip on the wire. It was enough for Batman to move his head out of the noose-hold, swing an arm around, and knock Ra's down. Batman moved quickly, pinning the leader of the League of Shadows to the floor.

"If you'd only learn to mind your surroundings," Batman lectured, throwing Ra's words back at him.

Looking at the sharp bat-a-rang in Batman's hands, Ra's gave his protégé an approving nod. "You've finally learned to do all that's necessary."

Batman shook his head. "I won't kill you," he countered. He threw the bat-a-rang; it shattered a window, creating a wind current, just as the end of the train car exploded with the push of a button on Batman's utility belt. Ra's turned his gaze back to a solemn Batman. "But I don't have to save you." Ra's wide eyes gave away his understanding of the statement. It was the last of Ra's al Ghul that Batman saw as he jumped out of the train into the sky.

Moments later, as the train fell off of the broken tracks and into the grassy area of the park right outside the reservoir, an explosion rocked the area.


	14. Epilogue

_**February 27, 2006** _

Roman Sionis was in a panic. Word reached him that the Batman found out he put the bounty and was coming for him. Normally, Sionis wouldn't care, but apparently the Batman had already located two of his safehouses. And that meant that he would be coming to the third and last one, where Sionis was, next. As for who ratted him out, he wasn't too sure. What he did know was that he had to get out off New York. And fast.

He grabbed money, guns, and his ledger; everything he'd need during his time laying low. Then, hopefully, the Batman would be too busy with other criminals to go after him. And after a few months, Sionis could return and take back his empire.

Before leaving his hideout, Sionis made sure to grab his black mask, putting it on before he left. He was briefly aware of a presence behind him before he was smashed into a wall. He dropped his bag on impact, stumbling as he was grabbed again. This time, he was looking into the face of the Batman.

"I hear you've been looking for me?" Batman growled, his grasp tightening on Roman's jacket.

"You can't arrest me," Roman laughed. "I haven't done anything. And you're not a cop." The mobster sounded much more confident than he actually felt, and Batman knew that. He was slammed into the wall again; this time, his hands were forced behind his back as Batman cuffed him.

"Extortion. Murder. Counterfeiting. Drug trafficking. Hiring contract killers," Batman listed off. "Trust me; you're going to jail for a long time."

Sionis laughed as Batman began leading him away. "You know what's so great about you, Batman? Even when I lose, I win." He looked at the vigilante as they stopped walking. "Go ahead. Call the cops. They'll lock me up, sure. But my lawyer will have me out on bail before the sun is up. And you know what I'm going to do when I get out?" The criminal dared to step closer to the masked vigilante, staring him down. "I'm going to dedicate every waking moment to tracking you down and taking you out. And the best part is that  _there's not a thing you can do about it._  Because that justice system you love so much? It's a scam. And you? Well… you're the mark. Because you keep tossing us in, and we keep bouncing right. Back. Out."

"No Roman," Batman countered. "That's how it used to be. But now things are different, and you won't be getting out for a very, very long time. You have my word on that."

The sound of police sirens made Sionis look over in surprise as more than five units pulled up in front of him. When he looked back, however, the Batman was gone.

* * *

Martha found her son in the lair, watching the news report about the explosion in Times Square.

_"Thanks to the quick work of CIA scientists, most everyone who was affected by the toxin has made a full recovery,"_ Vicki Vale stated.  _"However, there are a few criminals who are still at large. Slade Wilson and Jonathan Crane are just a few of the dangerous inmates who have escaped."_

The official report was that the railroad collapsed, sending the vacant train crashing to the ground. As for the mass hallucination people experienced near Arkham Asylum, along with the release of the inmates, the blame was given to Dr. Jonathan Crane, who was being called 'Scarecrow.' Most news channels took the police report as it was, but a few reporters such as Vicki Vale questioned whether they were being given the whole story as eyewitnesses stepped forward.

_"Mayor Weldon, we've heard reports that Crane was not stopped by the police, but by the Batman-"_ Mayor Weldon got up close to the camera, anger in his eyes.

_"The Batman was not at all involved in the events of that night!"_

_"I had my gas mask on, and my partner and I were hiding out, waiting for back-up to arrive,"_ a rookie SWAT officer said _. "Then I see the Batman fighting a group of ninjas, and it's all BAM! KA-POW! BOOM! All the guys are on the floor; KO'd!"_

_"I can't remember much because of the toxin,"_  a middle-aged woman admitted _, "but I do remember seeing a large bat flying below the train."_

_"He was fighting a man with a gun, and took him out in one go!"_ a young man stated _. "I may have been a little out of it, but I know what I saw! The Bat's real!"_

_"I saw him!"_ a little boy exclaimed.

_"Yea!"_ the little girl next to him grinned _. "Batman was fighting a group of ninjas, and he kicked their butts!"_

_"From these statements, my suspicion that the Batman was indeed the force on the scene during Scarecrow's attack seems more than valid,"_ Vicki Vale stated in the newsroom,  _"And this city should be thanking him for it. New York could have been destroyed if it wasn't for this man, who is not so much a vigilante, but rather a hero."_

_"I'm a cop,"_ Detective Kate Beckett said. _"I can't condone his actions."_ Her eyes flickered from the reporter to the camera. _"But I can be grateful that he's doing it."_

_"This is Vicki Vale for Gotham News at 11."_

The tv shut off, making Martha look at Castle. Lowering the remote, Castle leaned back in the command chair, face thoughtful.

"Well," Martha stated after a few moments of silence, "looks like the NYPD may start to warm up to the Batman, considering he saved the city and all." She looked at the newspaper on the console.  _ **ROMAN SIONIS BEHIND BARS**_  "And it looks like there's no need to worry about assassination attempts anymore?"

Castle looked up at his mother, forcing a smile. "The more popular Batman is among the NYPD, the less criminals like him," he explained. "I can't get too comfortable."

Martha patted his shoulder. "Of course not." She let him go and began walking towards the staircase.

"He wasn't who I thought he was," Castle finally said, making Martha turn to him. She was confused, but Castle didn't allow her to question him. He just kept talking. "Ducard. He wasn't who I thought he was. He…" Castle shut his eyes. "He was the exact thing we were supposed to be against."

"What did Ra's al Ghul say about that?" Martha wondered after a moment of silence. She didn't expect the humorless laugh that escaped her son.

"He  _was_  Ra's al Ghul," he said. "The League was something akin to a terrorist group, with Ducard - Ra's - being their leader."

That was yet another thing Martha had not been expecting. She walked back to Castle as he turned the chair around to face her. "What happened?" she asked.

"He told me the League's true mission; to destroy crime by destroying its sources, including humanity." The writer looked away. "I spent time with him. He  _trained_ me, and I couldn't see the kind of person he really was."

Martha sat on the other chair they had at the console and faced her son. "Richard," she began, taking his hands into her own, "the man rescued Alexis. It was only natural for you to put him on a pedestal." She paused, thinking over her words. "From what you've told me... I believe that he truly did care about you. He took you as his student, personally. For being the head of a terrorist organization, that means he saw something in you."

Castle smiled weakly. "Like what? The potential to destroy the world?"

Martha shook her head. "The potential to change it," she countered. "He just didn't realize that it wouldn't be in the way he imagined."

Castle remained silent, thinking. "He's dead," he finally stated. "I left him on the train just before it exploded." He looked up at his mother. "I just left him there to die and I... Did I kill him?"

Martha's heart broke at the tone of his voice. "No, Richard," she insisted, squeezing his hands. "You gave him a chance to stop what he was doing. He didn't, and created his own fate." She looked at him intently. "A man like him, with his influence and power, is better off dead than alive."

Castle knew she was trying to make him feel better. But he knew Ra's death was something he'd carry with him forever. And whether or not it was his fault was something he'd always question.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Martha reached over and grasped his hand. "Your father would be very proud of you," she said softly. "Just like me."

Castle looked at her with wide eyes before a small smile came onto his face.

* * *

"So the city is saved, and Roman's behind bars," a feminine voice purred. "Looks like you got your happy ending."

Batman turned to see a woman standing behind him. She was dressed in a black leather cat-suit, with heeled boots, and a domino mask on her face. Her hair was long and brown and the smirk on her lips was so familiar…

"Miss Kyle?" Batman questioned in slight surprise. She shook her head.

"Catwoman," she corrected, walking closer to him. At this, Batman frowned, now noticing the cat ears she wore. "What?" she questioned. "This city has a bat-man. Why not a cat-woman?" She stalked past him. "Besides, there are perks. I can walk down the street without worrying if my face got caught on camera during a job."

"So you're going to keep stealing then." It wasn't a question.

"Girl's gotta eat," she teased. Batman wasn't fazed.

"You saved my family," he pointed out, and at this, Catwoman tensed and she turned to him.

"Listen, just because I helped you out does  _not_  mean that we are friends," she hissed. Her reaction amused him, and she noticed. Regaining her cool, she shrugged. "But, you owe me now." She stood closer to him. "And I fully intend to cash in."

Batman went to reply, but Catwoman's change in facial expression stopped him. She was no longer looking at him, but over his shoulder. Following her gaze, he blinked at the sight. In the sky was a bright light― a light that was coming from the ground. And it was in the shape of a bat.

It was his symbol.

"Well, I guess they know how to contact you then, don't they?" Catwoman mocked. Batman looked at her, his expression impassive once more.

"Duty calls."

"Yes it does," she smirked. "You aren't the only one with work to do." She turned and began to walk away. "See you around."

And that was the first time Batman didn't doubt her word.

* * *

He tapped on the metal of the signal light, grabbing Montgomery's attention. A small smile was on the vigilante's lips. "Nice," he commented.

Montgomery shrugged. "Well, I couldn't find any mob bosses. Figured this would be the next best thing." He shut the light off. "Gotta say, you really surprised me with all this. Been a cop for about ten years, and I never thought things would change."

"I didn't do it on my own," Batman countered, looking at the Captain pointedly, but Montgomery wasn't having it.

"You sure did start in on your own."

"And now?"

"Now the NYPD is finally getting its act together and protecting this city," the captain answered. "Dirty cops are running scared, and there's finally some hope on the streets."

Batman stared at Montgomery for a moment. "But?" he prodded, knowing there was more.

Montgomery sighed. "We still haven't been able to pick up Crane or half of the inmates from Arkham that he freed."

"We can," Batman assured. "We will bring all of them back."

"What about escalation?" Montgomery questioned. "If we start to carry semi-automatics, they'll go and get automatics. When we started wearing Kevlar, they bought armor-piercing rounds. And then… Then there's you."

Batman blinked in bemusement. "Me?"

"Yes you," Montgomery insisted. "With your mask and the whole jumping off of rooftops thing… Roman Sionis went on trial today. He had that mask of his  _melted_  onto his face. Started referring to himself as 'Black Mask.' The media is calling Crane 'Scarecrow.' So what happens when all the other crazies start taking up alter-egos?"

Batman thought about Selina Kyle, who also joined in on the 'costume party,' as she had called it. This had the potential to be really bad, but… "We stop them," Batman promised. "We  _always_  stop them."

Seeing that the cop had nothing more to say, Batman turned to leave. He was prepared to launch off of the roof when Montgomery spoke again.

"I never said 'thank you.'"

At this, Batman paused and looked back at him. "And you'll never have to." He nodded once before leaping off the building and gliding into the night. Montgomery smiled from his vantage point. The city had been saved, but there was still a lot of work to do.

But with the Batman on their side… they could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for the next installment of the series, World's Greatest Detective: Genesis. It takes us to season one of Castle!  
> Thank you for reading!


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